


The Touch of Undeath

by sweetlemonjam



Series: Life & Undeath [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Blood Drinking, Dominance, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Femdom, Intense Yearning, Intimacy, Light Bondage, Love Bites, Neck Kissing, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Nonbinary Character, Orgasm, Other, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Sexual Intimacy (at the end), Slow Burn, Submission, Touch-Starved, Vampire Bites, Vampires, but like its done tastefully and things are very consent heavy, hooty hoo!, im nonbinary writing this nonbinary character so There, the boys say my writing is very sensual ;)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:00:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 154,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25168123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetlemonjam/pseuds/sweetlemonjam
Summary: After an attempted assassination reveals the vampiric nature of the Queen of Mevaden, a noble paladin volunteers their blood in order to save her life. Mysterious and stoic, the Queen does not forget what transpired.
Relationships: Original D&D Character(s)/Original D&D Character(s), Paladin/Vampire
Series: Life & Undeath [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899130
Comments: 87
Kudos: 53





	1. Giving Blood

**Author's Note:**

> long story short this happened in a dnd campaign like a year ago and it awakened something in me Lol anyway.  
> at first i just wrote the scene itself, and then i started to write even more. now i think vampires are the hottest thing but like only if its specifically a fantasy queen who is super badass i guess.
> 
> this fic starts with non-sexual intimacy but will slowly grow into sexual intimacy by the end, i will be adjusting the tags and ratings as i add chapters.
> 
> **fun credits & thanks**  
> i would like to give credit to my dungeon master for being the baddest of asses and creating a world full of wonder and cool npcs, its a custom setting he built himself. he created the spicy vampire queen and also he didnt want actual credit so hes anonymous 😔  
> shout out to another fic i read a hot hunk ago, from the darkness we rise by not-poignant, a ROTG fic that is legit one of the best pieces of literature ive read in my life. some of the dynamic of paladin/vampire is kind of inspired by the pairing in that fic. so if ur a fan of romance w Dark Mysterious Scary Top & touch-starved Bottom, take a look at that

Queen Vicouryn stands silhouetted in the window of her study. Her black hair is disheveled, and her bloody dress is arranged back into place. Even weakened, she still carries an intimidating aura; her wounds only serve to amplify her presence. Weiren’s fingers itch to channel divine light and heal her, but they know it would have no effect. 

Healing does not affect the undead, after all.

“Whoever is trying to take my life knows that they are almost out of time,” the queen states in a cold tone, her words slow and controlled, “however, I wish to see the one who killed my aides… I wish to see them punished.  _ Harshly _ .” 

With that sentiment, she sends a glance at the closed door of the study. Weiren can still remember the blood slicking the hallway, the bodies slumped against the walls. More deaths that they and their friends had failed to prevent. Even now the scent of iron pervades the air so thickly.

“But, until I partake of strong enough blood, I cannot… I am severely limited. Even- even staying standing is proving to be an exertion.” 

It is true, Weiren can tell. The two arrows that their friends managed to remove from the queen’s body had pierced her lungs as well as heart. It would have been a miracle that she was still alive, were she not an undead vampire. The citizens celebrating outside of the manor castle have no idea how dangerous the Banquet of the Full Moon has become. Weiren gazes for a few seconds at the queen, thinking, but of course it’s their reflex to help.

“If... it would help, I would give some blood. If you would be willing to partake, of course,” Weiren finally offers, and can practically imagine Kainen’s scandalized face despite him standing somewhere behind them. In fact, Weiren doubts that any of the other three members of their group are feeling much enthusiasm about this idea.

The queen turns to Weiren, eyeing them. She’s bracing herself on the desk, a hand pressed to one of the wounds she’d endured. The arcane sigils left behind by the white arrows have faded, thankfully, but she is still in bad shape. Despite her undoubtable power she has been put in an incredibly weakened state.

“You would be… feeding an undead monster, paladin,” The queen says, slowly. “You make interesting choices with your life.”

Certainly offering blood to a vampire isn’t a common occurrence, especially not for  _ paladins  _ like them. But again, vampires aren’t commonly queens, either.

Weiren’s eyes flit down to the ground, where darkness has stained so much of the ground. So much of the queen’s blood. Not just hers, though. The blood of Nahlia, the queen’s most trusted servant, marks the rug as well. She’d tried to give the queen her own blood before the party arrived, though she’s been dismissed since then. They look back to the queen, matching her gaze, and say nothing. Weiren isn’t a paladin to deal with death or undeath, and they have a mission to carry out. The queen needs to survive the Nights of Rebirth. 

Queen Vicouryn’s eyes close slowly as she turns to face the window. A few ravens are perched outside, gazing in. The warm glow from a sconce somewhere below gives them a faint orange rim along their feathers. One of them takes off, flying off into the celebration farther away. 

“Partaking of some of your blood would restore a small amount of my power. But, it would weaken you, and I cannot tell you by how much,” the elven vampire returns, maintaining eye contact in a way that should be making them nervous, but they find themself steadfast in their desire to assist.

“We’re here to ensure your safety,” they begin, “and I think it is a fair decision to make to help you in whatever way we can.” If a vampire will only recover from drinking blood, well, they have plenty, and they can offer theirs. They wonder how much pain she feels from her wounds, her mortal wounds that must be excruciating for anyone else to bear if they managed to survive long enough to feel it.

The queen closes her eyes briefly, and they bite their lip.

“I would discuss this amongst your comrades. Your job for tonight is still not done; if you make a choice like this, it will hinder your potential until you can recover,” she finally says, and Weiren frowns. They turn back to regard the reactions of their friends, which will surely not be positive.

“This is dangerous,” Kainen says immediately, “We need you to be as ready as you can be for a fight. We can protect her, now.”

“But,” Weiren protests, “the queen  _ was  _ already protected, and someone still managed to get to her! At the very least, she should be able to defend herself. We can’t guarantee we’ll be here if the enemy makes another attempt on her life; it’s best if she regains some of her strength,” they reason. “Besides, I recovered well enough from our previous encounter. I think I can handle it.”

_ Besides, it’s my choice. _

Lynne shakes her head. Her normally vibrant skin is still dulled down a bit, grayer than her usual lavender purple. She still hasn’t recovered from the incident with the strange blood-draining mist, and it shows.

“I worry that having more of us weakened would be incredibly dangerous. One of us being in this state is already bad enough; I wouldn’t wish it upon you,” Lynne says, concern in her face. Dormin steps up beside her.

“I would say the best thing to do now is to keep yourself in the best condition to protect the queen. Right now, we need to be able to fight in case whoever this is comes forward and tries something overt,” He adds. Weiren presses their lips together and glances away for a second, finding their words.

“I understand where the rest of you are coming from, truly,” they say, exhaling, “but I don’t think we should deny her the chance to at least recover and protect herself when we have the power to give that chance to her. Like I said, a queen is already well protected by many, and yet the assailant… Marie… still made it to her.” Weiren’s eyes close in sadness at the thought of the noble woman. Marie had been incredibly friendly, and made them feel welcome in a city that seemed to estrange them. 

“Have you decided, then?” The queen’s words bring Weiren back to the present. Yes, they are ready.

“Weiren, I think this is a terrible idea,” Kainen cuts in and places a hand on Weiren’s shoulder, “But if you’re going to do it, I won’t let you do it alone.” Weiren blinks in surprise at the sentiment, but gods it makes sense considering his character.

“I don’t- well, you can, but… I don’t think you should be doing it because of me.” They shake their head, holding their hands up.

“Well, I don’t think you should be doing it at all, but here we are,” Kainen huffs in response.

“I- if you don’t think I should be doing it, then you probably also shouldn’t be doing it,” Weiren says, trying to placate the scion. “Please, Kainen.”

“If you’re going to be doing it, you shouldn’t have to do it alone.” Kainen folds his arms, a stubborn expression on his face, and they sigh. The scion is so stubborn sometimes.

“I’m not going to lose all my blood, Kainen,” Weiren says, “I think.”

Weiren doesn’t miss the way the queen glances away at that. Oh, Celaste Moren.

“If you’re going to do it, then I’m going to do it too. That’s just how it is,” Kainen says, firmly.

“Fine, it’s your decision,” Weiren sighs, “At least it will help strengthen her, and should she need more to protect herself, well…” Their words fall away and they swallow with uncertainty, not quite sure how to proceed. Nahlia had cut her hands, so… maybe… Weiren reaches out a hesitant hand towards the queen and nods, steeling themselves. Somewhere in their periphery Kainen is holding out a bleeding palm of his own.

The queen sighs, slow and long, a cool exhale, before she turns. At first, she’s not much taller than Weiren, but as she approaches, it feels as if she grows in size, her shadow expanding with every step. Weiren’s breath catches in their throat, frozen, as the queen moves even closer with determination, looming like a shadowy predator. Weiren would be internally chanting prayers to their deity as fast as their brain could come up with them, but their mind is empty save for the roiling anxiety as the queen closes the distance, pushing aside their outstretched arm. Oh, not the arm, oh, okay, oh, what? 

Cold, undead hands reach for their face and hold it gently, before tilting it to the side to expose Weiren’s neck. The queen pushes aside the coat wrapped around them. Weiren’s eyes widen at the contact, unexpecting of the fingers on their face. It’s cold, but not too much, and it feels… nice, Weiren thinks. Maybe? It’s hard to tell with their heart hammering in their chest. Has anyone ever touched their face before?

Weiren stares past the queen’s dark hair, at nothing, waiting, until a pain pierces their neck. There’s a slight flinch, and then a desperate attempt to remain incredibly still, in the hopes of making the process painless and expedient. Despite the physical closeness of the situation, the queen still stands apart from them, the only points of contact being her hands and her fangs but it is still so much. Their breaths quicken as adrenaline begins to flow and they bite on their lip to force themself to calm, but this contact is so unexpected that their body doesn’t know what to do. Yes, Weiren wanted to help the queen, they wanted her to heal and recover and be alright, but they didn’t think beyond that, didn’t realize that meant she would be touching them like this, holding onto their face so gently in a way they’ve never felt before. 

Of course it is only so that she can drink their blood, nothing more, they  _ know  _ this but the contact is somehow also comforting, somehow so pleasant that they have fleeting thoughts of the queen not letting go, just cupping their cheek and holding their shoulder as she leans into their neck, because they know deep down they will never find this sensation ever again. They know they only have a life of solitude ahead of them, nothing beyond the brief touches between them and the Concord, nothing but the strikes of their enemies upon them. Of course the only way they can find the touch of another person is like  _ this,  _ because she needs blood, and they have it, and no one will ever want to touch them otherwise. That’s how it’s always been, after all. 

It’s so much, it’s too much, and their brain is somehow empty and full at the same time, hanging onto this moment with everything they can. It’s a strange feeling; Weiren can feel their vitality weakening, leaving their body through the fangs of the vampire queen. They try to count the seconds but it all blurs in their mind, and they aren’t sure how long it’s been, and for a second they forget the relief of the soft contact and wonder if this is the death that awaits. A paladin of light and life, sacrificing their blood to the undead queen of Mevaden until there is simply nothing left of them, until they simply are gone.

There’s a force as Queen Vicouryn steps forward and starts to push on Weiren, who in turn takes a step back, still firmly ensnared in the queen’s deadly embrace. Oh, gods. The wall behind them isn’t too far, and they picture themselves pinned to it like prey helpless to stop the predator from devouring them. Not the most pleasant of ends. 

“Uh-,” they breathe, trying to find words, and then the force is suddenly too much, they’re losing too much, and they aren’t sure if they’re going to make it-

The queen growls and shoves Weiren away, who stumbles back several feet and hits the wall, noticing so quickly the absence of her touch. Their hand immediately goes up to the open wound, where blood is already soaking into the fabric of their clothes, and their fingers come away red. Weiren looks up to see Kainen’s hand gripping but not drawing his halberd, and then looks at the queen, who wipes her mouth clean of their blood with the back of her hand. They use the wall to pull themselves up to standing again, but their body feels strangely weak. They’re dizzy, and it feels colder than it had been just a few minutes ago, and they’re alone again.

But the  _ queen _ . The queen has a strange expression of bloodlust mixed with disgust in her face as she breathes. A few seconds pass as she calms herself, closing her eyes. Weiren watches in wonder as the queen’s body begins to fix itself. Flesh knits together, so slowly, but definitely there. She’s healing,  _ thankfully _ , and a relieved sigh escapes them.

“This... is enough. A small, small amount of my regenerative ability will shore up this body and keep me in better shape than I was before,” she says, finally, composing herself. Weiren becomes vaguely aware of their friends helping keep them steady before they find their own balance.

“Good,” Weiren says, trying to work a confident smile onto their face. It’s hard, everything’s a little woozy, but they’re sure they’ll be fine in due time. Kainen won’t need to lose any blood, as well. The queen squeezes her other hand, and it’s a comforting sign of strength returning to her previously comatose body. If she’s attacked again, she’ll stand a better chance at survival.

“This should help put things into perspective for you,” Queen Vicouryn says steadily, “Whatever rat is trying to kill me, if they are of my kin, they most certainly will not have the self-control that I do. I cannot imagine they are not full of blood. Their ability to heal will be impossibly fast. To kill one of my kind requires skill, preparation, and some amount of luck and intelligence.”

“Is there anything you can tell us about how to fight one of your kin?” Dormin asks, ever the tactician of the group. Weiren presses hard on their neck as their friends discuss the strategy for the night, trying to staunch the blood flow. They know that wounds like these aren’t so easily mended by divine magic, but they focus a small amount of energy, attempting to at the very least stop the bleeding. Unfortunately, the wounds stubbornly remain open, and the red continues to trickle.

Oh, well. Somehow, it has come to this. Somehow, the paladin of Celaste Moren finds himself having given their own blood to an undead vampire of indeterminate morality.

Well, anything for the Doluum Alliance, they suppose.

full party pic, left to right is Kainen (human barbarian), Lynne (tiefling bard), Weiren (elf paladin), Dormin (half-elf paladin).


	2. A Second Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiren is invited to a meeting with the queen. For what, they do not know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> s-spicy amirite. i will be attempting to update weekly, i guess every saturday?

_ After saving the queen, the party confronts Varis, an elven noble and their current suspect for the identity of the beast. He flees, transforming into a bat and escaping into the night. The party pursues, finding him in the stronghold they discovered in their investigations, where he engages the party in a bloody fight and confesses to enthralling Marie Neval. Undead mist fills the chamber, draining the blood of the party members in addition to Varis’ bite.  _

_ As a last resort, he downs several potions, boosting his strength. The party continues the fight, blades clashing in a horrible, horrible battle. Finally, the Crystal Concord triumphs, though nearly at the cost of the life of Dormin. Varis’ body reforms harmlessly in his coffin, and the party stakes him, with Dormin striking the final blow with his greatsword, decapitating him. _

_ The second Night of Rebirth passes, and the party succeeds. They are victorious. _

***

"Um, by any chance, do you know what this meeting is for?" Weiren inquires, finally, after a long and mostly quiet walk in the manor castle. Nahlia is leading them down the dark and elegant halls of the queen's abode, back towards the study. And by Celaste Moren, they do not know  _ why _ . Their party is supposed to meet with the queen after tonight’s celebration. Why has the queen requested Weiren now? Glancing out the windows shows a sky before dawn; it’s incredibly early in the day. It’s only due to their elven heritage that Weiren was even awake when Nahlia showed up at their chamber door.

The aide shakes her head. "The nature of this meeting is unknown to me. The business must be yours and the queen's alone. Perhaps she has a few more questions regarding the information you uncovered."

The answer does little to calm the paladin's nerves. They doubt Nahlia’s suggestion.

"Oh, well... is she... is the queen doing better?" They inquire, trying to keep up some semblance of a conversation.

"Yes." There's a small smile on Nahlia's face. "She's in much better shape after a night's rest. After tonight, however, she'll be at her best," She answers. 

She's talking about the Blood Vow, Weiren knows. Tonight, all the citizens of Mevaden will be giving blood, symbolically for the protection of the city. No one knows its true purpose, however. It's intriguing to consider how the queen subsists off one night of blood for the entire year. Weiren turns their attention to the interior around them, marveling at how well the halls have been cleansed of the violence that slicked its walls just the night prior. It is still a tragedy, though, the number of deaths that had occured. At least Nahlia is alright.

"How about you?" Weiren asks, glancing down at the aide's hands. Her left hand is wrapped tightly in white bandages, covering the self-inflicted wound she'd made to try and revive the queen just the night prior.

"I'm alright," she deflects, her free hand moving automatically to cover her injured one.

"I, um, I can heal that for you," Weiren offers gently as they turn down the final hall, "You know, as thanks for all your help." The aide was immeasurably helpful, carrying messages for the queen and explaining the ways of the city to them and their party.

"You... are kind to offer," Nahlia says, hesitantly, and holds out her hand. Weiren slowly reaches for it and clasps it in theirs, using their other hand to grab their amulet. Weiren's eyes fall closed as they pray.

_ Allow me to ease her pain. _

A dim golden light glows where Weiren's hand touches Nahlia. Nahlia's eyes widen almost imperceptibly at the glow, and then it fades away. The paladin lets go and Nahlia flexes her fingers in wonder. It must be the first time she's been healed with divine magic. Weiren smiles nervously at her, and she inclines her head in appreciation as she removes the bandages.

"You have my thanks," she says as they approach a pair of heavy wooden doors, flanked by two guards who nod at her. The guards push the doors open for Weiren to enter, and they gulp as subtly as they can. "Well, here you are. Good luck. I'll be waiting to escort you back afterwards."

"Yeah, thank you very much," Weiren somehow manages to say. When did their throat get so dry? Peering into the study, it almost looks completely back to normal. Marie Neval—the assassin—is nowhere to be seen. Her body must have been removed, along with the rest of the debris. The blood that spattered the floor is cleaned up, and the only sign that anything even occurred is the spiderweb-like cracks that span the main window of the room. 

The queen herself sits at the dark wooden desk in front of that same window, perfectly centered in the frame of the door, regarding Weiren coolly with that unchanging expression of hers. Just the sight of her brings back the recent memory of a chill on their face, a blessing of a touch that threw them so entirely off guard. Weiren steels themself and steps past the threshold of the doors, at which the queen gestures to the guards. A second later, and they can hear a slight creak as the doors close behind them.

Weiren becomes intensely aware of the quiet, now that it's just them and the queen. Gods, what are you supposed to do again? Having grown up sleeping in the streets did little to develop Weiren's sense of etiquette amongst royalty. Uhh, right, just... copy Dormin? Weiren bends forward to bow, and nearly pitches forward from how far forward they lean. Their heels come up just barely, but they manage to keep balance and settle back down.

Then uh, you say something…?

"Your-your majesty," Weiren says, staring down at the floor in fear. Damn it, why can’t they just speak normally? Knowing that the queen sitting before them is a vampire of great power that can probably obliterate them instantly does absolutely nothing to quell their anxiety.

"Rise, paladin-" the queen commands, and Weiren straightens their back, uncertain if they should be attempting to hold eye contact, “-and approach. I will not shout at you across the room.” Embarrassment warms their cheeks, and they take several steps closer to the desk, leaving behind the safety of the wooden doors. "I merely seek to give gratitude. You and your friends performed adequately, as you already know. However," the queen intones as she tilts her head, barely, "your actions, specifically, did not go unnoticed."

_ My actions? _ Weiren thinks with alarm. What did they even do? Is the queen somehow aware of how much more poorly than their allies they'd performed in the final battle? They already know they're a far cry from the most powerful of the Crystal Concord. Always favoring defense and support, they never do as much damage. Nor are they always successful with their defense; there are plenty of instances in which their shield fails to deflect dangerous attacks. Weiren opens their mouth to reply, but can't find the right words, and presses their lips together, waiting with baited breath for the judgement of the Queen of Mevaden.

"Not many would have done what you did," she continues in a measured voice, rising from her chair, "willingly giving blood to one of my kind." 

_ Oh…  _ So this is about that. Weiren looks at the queen, trying to read her emotions, but hundreds of years of experience have given her much control over her expressions, and they can barely tell anything. "In fact, many would consider it to have been incredibly foolish; especially considering how much more you could have been weakened."

Weiren sweats. Is this what gratitude sounds like in high society? But to be fair, it's not like they didn't imagine Celaste Moren's disapproval when the queen took their blood. They still aren't sure how their deity feels about that. There's a pause, and Weiren looks back at the queen, who appears to be waiting on a response. They aren't sure if they're supposed to defend their decision or apologize. Isn’t the queen supposed to be saying thanks?

"I , uh, think it was an adequate risk to take to um, ensure your wellbeing." There, that was true. Weiren had simply been trying to help as best as they could. They watch to see the queen's reaction, but her face is as still as stone. "It's good to see you are doing better." They look away, intimidated by the intensity of her gaze. This situation is unlike the other, and they are so very aware of the power imbalance now that it is just the two of them without the rest of their friends. An outsider, a  _ mercenary _ , and a leader, a  _ queen _ . A  _ vampiric  _ queen. Not just in status but in raw power, too, Vicouryn is the one far above them, and while they know it doesn’t make sense for her to do anything harmful to them, there is a fear that prickles their skin. People with so much power are wont to do terrible things with it.

Not to mention how her simple touch on their cheek overwhelmed them so easily. They’re terrified.

"Yes," the queen agrees, echoing the sentiment, "your actions allowed me to continue about my business. It is certainly fortunate that it did not compromise your ability to deal with the enemy." Oh, phew, yes, she is thanking them, they think, those words are reassuring.

Frankly, though, the true fortune was that Weiren seemed the least threatening out of all their compatriots, for their allies were the ones who bore the most damage from Varis, the other vampire. Surely if Weiren had posed a greater danger, they may as well have perished in the fight.

“You are very kind,” Weiren says, carefully picking words, “it was an honor to assist you. I’m glad I could help.” That was true, at least. Weiren rarely has the opportunity to directly assist royalty in such a way, having come from nothing.

Queen Vicouryn raises a brow ever-so-slightly, and Weiren isn’t even completely sure if they imagined it or not. This meeting can’t be just for a simple thanks, right?

“And you have recovered?” She inquires, at which Weiren blinks inquisitively. The queen doesn’t seem the type to worry about the wellbeing of outsiders, but they did directly give her their vitality just the night before.

“I… yes, I have.”

Finally, she nods, at which Weiren sags a bit in relief, and then immediately straightens again when the queen begins walking towards them. There is absolutely no time to relax even a little bit. Her hands are clasped behind her back and her chin is lifted in a very regal manner.

“I will be frank. Tonight is the last Night of Rebirth,” she says, still coming closer. Weiren fights the urge to step away. That is probably considered rude, but the adrenaline that instantly starts to flow is telling them otherwise.

“The Blood Vow, I believe,” they answer, and the queen nods. For some ungodly reason, she walks past them, and Weiren watches as she starts to slowly, but deliberately, circle them. Like a vulture, ready to descend upon a ready meal. Weiren feels their blood run cold and looks back straight ahead, trying to find something to focus their eyes on.

“You are correct. Tonight is the Blood Vow. As you and your friends are not Mevaden citizens, you will not be allowed to take part in the event, despite the service you have done for us in dealing with the beast.” Vicouryn passes behind them, and starts to come around on their right side, just a couple feet away. Each footstep is soft, and barely perceptible, but Weiren can hear them as if they were strikes of thunder, shaking the ground around them. Gods, what is she going to do?

“Furthermore, although I am no longer in such a mortal state, I have not yet fully recovered,” she says, coming to a stop in front of them. Weiren looks back up and finds themself locked into a focused gaze. True, although Queen Vicouryn has no visible wounds, she’s even paler than usual. She looks as haggard as an elven vampire can manage. The lighting casts her eyes as a dark, wood brown, although Weiren knows that in the right conditions it becomes an amber bordering on red. “Normally, it would be sufficient to wait until the Blood Vow; however, the current events have made it more difficult.”

They don't know what to say, and only nod again, waiting for the queen to finish, to get to the point so they can stop feeling so jumpy over the possibilities.

“Weiren,” she says, and Weiren jolts in surprise, still unused to hearing their name from the queen. Her voice is dark and unwavering, and it scares them a bit, “Paladin, of the Crystal Concord. I am offering you the opportunity to participate, privately, in the Blood Vow prior to the event.”

Weiren stares at the vampire, at a loss. For some reason, they’re drawn to her dark eyes more than usual. At their silence, the queen continues.

“It is rare that an outsider such as yourself even has the chance to witness such a sacred celebration to my people. You would be remiss to turn down such an invitation.” Her hands move from behind her back to her front, still one on the other in an elegant manner.

Vicouryn isn’t speaking particularly fast, but every word she adds just swims in their head. Invitation, celebration, Blood Vow, they all blur together as Weiren tries to decipher the meaning behind the words. They aren’t stupid but something about the queen is making it hard to process information. The dark room, the broken window, the level voice, her posture, everything is too much. A few more seconds pass as they roll the words around in their head. Upon realization, Weiren’s right hand automatically rises to touch their left shoulder, where underneath their cloak, two tiny pinpricks have yet to heal. Queen Vicouryn’s eyes narrow at this motion and Weiren immediately drops their hand, feeling their breath quicken. They can barely comprehend how she phrases the request- the command?- in such a way to disorient them.

Clearly, refusal is not an option.

Adrenaline pulses through their body as they recall the sensation. First the pain, then the draining. Above all else, though, they can remember the cold hand pressed to the side of their face. The pressure of the queen’s firm grip and the feeling of being trapped in her grasp. Her black hair, impeccably straight, brushing against their jaw. They’d had a mixture of emotions in response, but a prominent one had simply been surprise at someone staying in such close proximity for so long. Somehow, beyond her fangs piercing their flesh, beyond the drinking of their blood, her touch had been the most memorable. For someone like them, though, it’s no wonder.

Weiren’s cheeks burn fiercely. Hopefully the queen is only making this demand for her health, and not because she has any inkling that Weiren had felt more than indifference. She couldn’t have noticed how they were mentally trying to hang in that moment for as long as they could?

But that moment seems like it can come again. Again, perhaps, they can feel the contact of another person on them, a pressure that will make them exhale in relief.

“Of course,” Weiren breathes, although it takes a couple tries to get the words out, “I, uh, I’d be honored to help in whatever way I can.” They try to sound heroic, like they’re agreeing out of good will and a desire to assist, and not like they’re intimidated by fear. And absolutely not like they directly want the queen of Mevaden to cup their face and sink her fangs into their neck.

The sharpness in the queen’s eye vanishes, maybe, Weiren thinks, and she steps even closer. 

“Mevaden appreciates your contribution, paladin,” Vicouryn says as the distance between them shrinks even further. Her voice lowers as she approaches. Weiren can’t find it within themself to hold her gaze and looks away as they reach up and pull at the collar of their cloak, head turning and tilting to glance somewhere, anywhere else. Weiren’s fingers brush the metal chain that carries both their paladin amulet and their amber ring of the Crystal Concord, and that, too, is tugged to the side, as best they can. How... coincidental, that their gem of choice to represent them in the Crystal Concord mirrors the hue of the queen’s eyes when cast in the right light.

Similarly to before, a cool hand comes to rest on the side of their face, adjusting the angle of the tilt, and they exhale a shaky breath in as controlled a fashion as they can manage. Less similarly, an arm wraps around their back to grip their arm, offering the queen stronger control over the situation.  _ Oh, no _ . Weiren tenses in response, freezing. They’d prepared for the touch on their face but this assertive contact breaks their preparation completely, the queen overwhelming them again so easily and they’re so aware of every part that must be against her, of her arm around them and that hand brushing their cheekbone. It’s almost like an embrace, they think, something else that is so infrequent for them, and of all the people who can give that to them it is  _ her _ , though it is only so that she can take their blood. They know it is not as if she cares for them or anything of the sort. They know that they aren’t really the sort of person anyone is supposed to care for, anyway.

Although they have no doubt that the queen has supernatural strength enough to hold them down, the moment is too fragile to ruin by moving. For some reason they fear that pushing back or adjusting their weight will be met with disapproval. Despite Queen Vicouryn’s undoubtable power, her grip is still gentle. Somehow, in a sea of anxiety, shame, fear, and everything else, that touch is the only thing holding them down from spiraling into nothingness. Weiren closes their eyes in anticipation; there’s nothing to look at, anymore. A breath against their ear makes them jolt.

“Relax, paladin. You will only hurt yourself,” she says, softly, yet still commanding. Heart thudding in their ears, Weiren does their best to relax their stiff muscles, which is no small feat, trying to focus on how her arm is wrapping around them in what could be mistaken as a comforting gesture.

The queen leans forward, forcing Weiren to lean back enough to forsake their balance partly and rely on her arm around them to stay upright. They can tell that it angles their neck in an even more vulnerable way, somehow. They want to reach up and grab at the queen’s arms, find something to hang on, but again they are frozen. The queen can do as she pleases, but Weiren is not ready to cross that bridge. They cannot be one to seek her touch. This is all for their blood, and only their blood. No doubt if they reached back she would send them away.

Weiren feels the chainlinks of their pendant slide back down their neck, and there’s another moment when Queen Vicouryn’s hand leaves their cheek, only briefly, to adjust it and move it out of her way. They can feel intimately every time her fingertips brush against flesh. Like small, cold, sparks of electricity. There’s a certain tension, Weiren recognizes, when the queen takes a hold of the sun-shaped symbol at their throat, and then gently sets it back to hang down on the other side of their neck, safely out of the way of her fangs. Their holy symbol, touched by the hands of a vampire. Weiren sends up another prayer. Queen Vicouryn’s wellbeing will allow her to journey west and meet the other kings in order to work together to fight the incoming war. It will save many lives. It is all for the good of the people of this country. They’ll endure this for all of those people at risk of the Brauven Empire.

The queen’s delicate hand returns, sliding back up from their neck to cup their cheek and jaw in a way that feels painfully deliberate and dangerously close to crossing over the corner of their lips. Does she need to drag each finger up and across their throat to reach their face, forcing chills to run down Weiren’s back? The hand settles down, firmly, and Weiren feels themself sigh in relief at the more grounding sensation. Oh, no, maybe she didn’t notice. Shit.

The seconds pass like years, somehow. Hanging like this with nothing to hold on to, Weiren fears the next moments. Somewhere, in the back of their mind, they know it’s not the loss of blood that they fear. Above all else, the prospect of the queen relinquishing her hold and letting them drift aimlessly is what frightens them the most. Weiren exhales, trying to force that thought away. There’s nothing about this that they desire; they simply are helping the queen heal from her injuries, albeit not in the way they usually go about tending to wounds. There’s no room for the healing light of Celaste Moren, only the inevitable, forceful draining of Weiren’s own vitality.

It’s when the sensation of soft hair brushes against their shoulder that Weiren knows it’s coming, but it seems as if Queen Vicouryn is taking her time to find the most optimal angle, multiple cold breaths blowing against their skin. Weiren wonders if she even needs to breathe, as a vampire, or if she’s doing it on purpose to torment them. Weiren’s own breath is coming and going, shaky and deep as they try to calm themselves. No doubt the queen can feel the expanse and contraction of their chest but they can’t help it; they’re completely out of their element and right now they’re at her mercy and  _ gods  _ she is still holding them so close, and that fact does not escape them. Of course vampires just  _ have  _ to subsist in this way, forcing Weiren to shake in their fear of touch when they are simply trying to help, trying to heal.

Finally, finally, pain sparks in their neck. Weiren tenses again by reflex, but tries to relax as quickly as they can as the fangs sink in, cold lips making contact with their skin. In reaction to the intrusion their head tilts away farther still, inadvertently pressing into the hand that holds their face steady. Weiren can feel a chuckle, maybe, escape the queen’s mouth around her fangs, as she certainly would have noticed the way they leaned into her hand. Weiren’s already halfway to mortified, and this does not help. Their stupid, traitorous, touch-starved body is making this nigh unbearable. There’s never been time to seek out any sort of intimacy. There’s always places to go, people to protect, monsters to fight. Weiren doesn't have time to find arms to hold them, for even just a night. Just them, waiting for every friendly hug given by the various members of the Crystal Concord, and lingering in the contact as long as they can, but it’s always fleeting and temporary. Still, though, hopefully the queen takes it as a helpful hand in making the process easier still, and not as yearning of any kind. It’s embarrassing, but Weiren almost wishes it wouldn’t end. They know all too well that when this is over they will have to resume their physical solitude, their  _ lack  _ of contact because really they are just a lost paladin wandering adrift.

The pain is significant, at first, but after a few seconds, it fades away to a mild ache. Weiren blinks their eyes open, feeling every controlled swallow that the queen takes, what with her own body pressed against theirs in her efforts to hold them. Watching the ceiling, it feels as if it floats higher away, like they’re zooming out of the imagery, like the world is moving away from them. 

The sensation is so familiar, now. They feel it in their hands, first, a slight cooling of their temperature as the blood leaves their body. How much will she take? Sure, Weiren has mostly recovered physically from their wounds. But they don’t know how much blood has replenished. They don’t know how long that takes, but they hope this draining is long, because they shamefully want that touch to last as long as possible, because they are so deprived of it that even the simplest of gestures is tearing them into nothingness.

Gods, how pitiful are they? How  _ weak _ ?

For what seems like hours, there is nothing but the sound of the queen drinking their blood, and perhaps Weiren’s shallow breaths if they pay enough attention, but it’s getting hard to do that. Each gulp comes every few seconds, like a steady heartbeat, and they breathe in time to it, hanging on to the rhythm. Somehow they slowly become aware of the queen picking up speed. The fingers of her gentle grip begin to dig in just a little more. That’s right, Weiren remembers, she hasn’t had blood in a year, besides the paltry offering they’d given her last night. Of course she’s hungry for more. 

It’s a good thing that Weiren has a strong body. A paladin has to train plenty to become strong enough to uphold their oath. They’ve got a fairly healthy body that can withstand much. Weiren is pretty certain that they’ll be alright after this. Probably. 

Weiren’s vision starts to blur a concerning amount at the edges. Surely the queen wouldn’t drain them of all their blood after what their party had done for her? That would be bad.

The vampire’s grasp starts to border on painful, thumb pressing hard into their cheek, but Weiren’s throat is dry and the words are barely coming. They reach up, weakly, trying to grab onto Queen Vicouryn’s arm. It takes a couple attempts, but they finally get ahold on it.

“Too-” Weiren gasps, squinting as the wooden beams in the ceiling duplicate, “too much. Stop-”

There’s another burning pain as Queen Vicouryn practically rips her fangs out, leaving what must be a messier bite wound than before. Weiren tries to refocus their eyes and concentrate, and can see only the queen’s wide-eyed expression with crimson dripping from her mouth overlaid on other images of her. It’s an interesting expression to see on an otherwise impressively stoic face.

The queen tries to let go at first, but Weiren doesn’t have the strength to keep standing, and she has to keep a hold on them to stop them from falling to the ground. She pulls them up to a more upright position, but Weiren’s head flops forward instead, their weight pressing down against the queen. Being prone sounds very nice right now, they think.

“Do  _ not _ fall unconscious,” a voice hisses, and Weiren snaps back to full awareness, hanging onto those words. They find their balance, briefly, as the queen’s support leaves their body, and then drop to one knee, hand pressed to their temple as they try to soothe the pounding in their head. It feels like the world is swaying around them.

“I won’t,” Weiren echoes, willing the strange fog in their head to dissipate, “I’m fine.”

“Fool,” the queen’s voice comes from above, interspersed with adrenaline-filled breaths, “you should have spoken earlier.” Weiren looks up, squinting against the candlelight of the chandelier to see the queen with an expression of contempt on her face. It’s hard to tell if the contempt is towards them, to herself, or to both. She’s wiping away the blood on her mouth with a handkerchief, but the slightly frenzied look in her eyes is still there, barely. She nearly lost control. 

Or she had, until Weiren said something. 

A few more moments pass as Weiren’s breathing returns to normal. The room feels cold, and they pull their cloak around themself tighter, just focusing on the solid ground beneath them, curling into themself and trying not to think about the lack of pressure against them. They just need a second to recover. They’re too wrapped up in remaining conscious to pay Vicouryn’s words much heed, although they can hear the anger.

“Move your hand,” the queen commands, and Weiren glances up to see the queen kneeling in front of them, still with an irritated expression on her face. Weiren flexes their hand and realizes they’d been pressing their palm against the new wound, trying to stop the blood flow, and they let go, letting their hand fall. The queen reaches out a cloth and presses it firmly against the bite. “A few more minutes should be enough. Giving yourself to a vampire once is dangerous. Twice is deadly.”

Weiren finds themselves nearly leaning into Queen Vicouryn’s pressure on their shoulder and stops themself immediately. It is not right. And it is, Weiren’s pretty sure, not their fault.

“It was at your request, your majesty,” Weiren merely says, taking the cloth from her. Sure, they’re a pushover at times but in this case they have to say something back. There’s a twitch in the queen’s face. “I hope you will be ready for the last Night of Rebirth, at least.” The anger in her eyes flares, and then subsides, leaving behind fatigue, and she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose for a second.

“I let my frustration get the best of me,” she says, closing her eyes briefly as she rises. “As you know, I have not properly sated my hunger for a year. Normally I have more control. Knowing that you are stronger than most made it more difficult to hold back; I will not make the same mistake again,” she finishes coolly, and extends a pale hand down.

Weiren stares at it, not expecting the assistance, and then takes it with their free hand, letting the queen pull them back up with surprising strength. It’s warmer than they expected, and they realize it’s due to their own body heat, and oh wow for a second there’s another person’s hand in theirs, but of course it is not there for long. Weiren stumbles a bit, but is able to regain mostly solid footing with the queen’s help. She gestures to one of the chairs that sit near the desk, and Weiren makes their way over to it. They mull over the queen’s words. She didn’t explicitly apologize, but they can hear the implication. To their knowledge, most people of such stature don’t even have apologies in their vocabulary. At the very least it seems like she actually feels an amount of guilt or at least responsibility, as opposed to previous high-ranking characters Weiren knew.

Weiren watches as Queen Vicouryn strides towards the door and pulls it open, only a little bit. They focus their hearing, curious.

“Nahlia, please send someone with something to eat. Our guest has not yet had anything today,” she says smoothly, and Weiren blinks. There’s a few more words exchanged that they miss, and the door shuts. Weiren pretends to have been looking away as the queen returns, gliding across the room towards her desk.

She picks up a black quill from an inkwell and begins to scratch at the parchment on her desk as Weiren sinks into the chair, their body appreciating greatly no longer needing to stand on its own legs.

“Take the time you need, paladin. There will be some food arriving shortly. You have my gratitude,” the queen states professionally. Weiren glances over as they keep applying pressure to the wound. It’s strange, but they can already see the effect of their blood on her. Her skin is a little less pale and her eyes flash brighter. Her posture straightens further as she continues to write. 

Several minutes pass like this, Weiren nursing their injury and the queen writing out words. They steal a few more glances at her, wondering what she must be thinking. Although she looks more lively than before, it’s less intimidating after having witnessed her more out-of-control state. It is interesting to know Weiren was privy to such a side of Vicouryn that probably no one ever sees, aside from Nahlia maybe. 

“Speak your mind,” the queen suddenly says, making Weiren jump a little bit, “I can tell you have something to say. It is the least I can do to entertain your questions.” Weiren swallows, and makes up their mind, feeling a little brave. They already nearly died, so what more could asking questions do?

“I just- uh, forgive me, but, the Blood Vow is so soon. Did you really need to take more of mine?” Weiren asks, carefully. The scratching of the quill on paper halts, and they sharply breathe, not sure if it was a horrible decision or not to ask. 

“You must understand,” she begins, sighing, “the Blood Vow is how I’ve sustained myself for years. Decades. Perhaps even longer. I’ve not had the chance to… address my hunger personally in a long time. Last night was the first time in quite a while that I could go directly to the source. Taking from the Blood Vow pales in comparison. And,” she lifts her head to cast a long look at Weiren, who matches it as earnestly as they can, “as I mentioned previously, there are not many who would offer themselves up willingly to a creature such as I.”

At that, Weiren’s cheeks color again, somehow, despite missing what could well be most of their blood. The gaze is interrupted by the sound of the door opening, and Nahlia enters the room with a tray. Weiren shifts their cloak to hide the bloody cloth as best they can, but Nahlia, already knowing of the queen’s true nature, most likely can tell what has transpired.

Nahlia approaches Weiren and sets the tray down on the side table next to them. The scent of fresh bread and hot soup hits them hard, and nearly makes them dizzy. They are so, so incredibly hungry. There’s a metal bowl with a hearty soup of potatoes and what they guess is rabbit, a roll of bread, and even a small slice of a sweet-smelling pie. There’s a brief moment of eye contact as Nahlia passes them a goblet as well.

“This will help you recover,” she says softly, and Weiren smiles up at her. 

“Thank you,” Weiren says, taking the cup in their hands. She nods in return, and turns to leave. 

The door closes shortly after, and it’s just the paladin and the queen again. Weiren takes a sniff and finds the goblet to be full of something fruity, thankfully not spirits of any sort. They begin to eat, slowly at first but find it hard to keep it that way. It’s true, they haven’t eaten today at all, and with the blood that they’ve lost, it’s not surprising that they’re ravenous.

The food is a good distraction to keep them from looking at the queen. Their emotions over the whole ordeal are mixed. The intimidating queen has her own issues, and she doesn’t always have control over everything. Previously she’s appeared only as immaculate, as perfect, and now Weiren has seen beyond that visage, even more than when the queen first drank from them.

The soup and pie are incredibly rich in flavor, Weiren notes. They’ve become slightly more accustomed to this higher quality food since setting off with the Crystal Concord, as the group has dealt with multiple kings. It’s a stark contrast to the humble meals of their past. 

Weiren finishes off the strange but tasty beverage, and sets it down, nearly wiping their mouth with their hand before remembering there’s a napkin. Right, etiquette. 

“And you, paladin. Weiren,” Queen Vicouryn says, breaking the silence, “Answer me this: your friends were already weakened, and you were close to catching the rat. Did you really need to offer your blood?” 

So, she’d waited for them to finish eating. Weiren pauses for a second, setting the used napkin back down. 

“I… suppose not. But we didn’t know what Varis might try. It is possible he had other assassins, or some other method to harm you. If we were elsewhere, who knows what could have happened?” Weiren reasons, hands resting on their knees.

“Hmm,” Queen Vicouryn hums, a corner of her mouth lifting in amusement, “you are a rare sort of self-sacrificing character, Weiren. Not many are so thoughtful towards a vampire.”

“Well… so I’ve been told. Usually people just call me reckless, though,” Weiren admits, remembering how literally their entire party was against them giving blood. It’s… nice how the queen’s demeanor seems to have relaxed a bit. It’s much less stifling than the usual behavior that comes with royalty; that slight smirk makes the whole situation a little less terrifying. “You may be what you are,” they say, “but you’re also the Queen of Mevaden. This kingdom needs you, and the Doluum Alliance needs you as well.”

“Pretty words from one who hails from Vangath,” the queen comments thoughtfully, “however, the sentiment is appreciated. But what of this time? You did not need to give your blood again so soon after the first time.”

Weiren sends her a disbelieving look for a second before adjusting their expression so as not to be rude. “The way you phrased it, um, was, uhh, incredibly convincing. I was under the impression that there was only one choice, especially considering our difference in status. I am merely a lowly adventurer, can I even refuse a queen?” they say, as carefully as they can to avoid any direct accusation. 

“I suppose you are correct,” the queen returns, nodding slightly, “I do not believe I left much room for disagreement. And I also judged you spineless; I did not think you would have the courage to refuse me. Then, what if I had been less direct, what if you did not feel obligated due to my status?” At least she admits it, Weiren supposes. They wonder just how fulfilling it is to drink blood from a live person. And it’s pretty common that people view Weiren as cowardly. Even Weiren views Weiren as cowardly.

Oh, wait, what?

Weiren’s mouth forms a straight line as they weigh their options. There can’t be any sense in lying, the queen is far too insightful.

“I… would still have done so,” they say slowly, figuring out the best answer, “so that you could recover enough to be among your people for the celebration.” And it’s not a lie, they think, that is all true. When did it start getting so hot in here?

Vicouryn lifts her head and stares at Weiren, narrowing her eyes. Suddenly, it feels as if they can’t look away. Weiren feels the vaguely comfortable dynamic they’d developed begin to fade as they look into those amber eyes. The queen can tell that they are not saying everything. Can she tell that Weiren misses the solid pressure of her hand around their face? Of her arm around their shoulders?

“And if I had not included such information?” She inquires, softly, but somehow it sounds as if she’s right in front of them. “If I had done nothing but request your blood?”

Weiren feels their throat dry again, uncomfortably. “I would have given it,” they whisper, their lips moving almost without their control. She tilts her head at that answer, her brows coming together just the slightest bit.

“Is the bite of a vampire really so enticing, paladin of Celaste Moren?” Queen Vicouryn gazes impassively at them, but her eyes are all Weiren can see. Their head spins, clouded, and they feel the urge to answer but it feels so strange.

“Are- are you using magic on me?” Weiren breathes, hands clenching into tight fists as they try to figure out their thoughts. The queen breaks eye contact, and immediately Weiren feels their body sag. 

“I forget the abilities the divine confer upon people such as yourself,” the queen states, her voice somewhat colder than before. Celaste Moren’s divine power allows Weiren more protection against mind-affecting magic. Although not immune to it, they are more aware of its use, and partly resistant.

“I would prefer you not to use such a power on me again,” Weiren says, a slight pinch in their voice, “I can answer your questions without influence.”

The queen looks briefly surprised at Weiren standing their ground. Not many people expect it from their passive nature. And, well, she did call them spineless.

“Interesting. It will not happen again,” the queen says, finally, and resumes writing on the parchment.

“As for your question, I don’t know why you care, but no, it is not that,” Weiren offers. May as well just get it out and over with. There’s worse people to know about what they’re going to say.

“You do not have to answer the question, Weiren,” Vicouryn says evenly, before sighing, “I have already taken enough.” Weiren’s mouth falls shut and they look down, frustrated. She nearly drags out one of Weiren’s most deep seated issues only to drop it in the dirt, leaving them partially exposed and uncomfortably dissatisfied. Well, it’s not like they’re new to emotional repression. “If you are feeling back to normal, you may leave.”

Weiren silently stands, leaving behind the blood-stained cloth. Their wound has long stopped bleeding, and the food has revitalized them. Weiren readjusts their cloak and turns to leave. At the door, they bow once.

“Your majesty,” they say, stiffly, and Vicouryn raises a hand to properly dismiss them from the study, all businesslike. They may have been hanging onto each other earlier in the hour, but the gulf that separates them now feels as wide as the continent Fadan itself.


	3. The Blood Vow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen Vicouryn partakes in the Blood Vow, and a fellow party member begins to take notice of Weiren's behavior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is less spicy, next chapter is full of much spice tho.  
> TW people give blood for the blood vow via knives so you may want to skip the actual vow part!

The bite, Weiren feels, will definitely leave a scar. Queen Vicouryn had pulled away so aggressively that the wounds are even larger and messier than the first one except the two are so close to each other and in the same space that it looks a bit of a mess. They’re lucky it has scabbed over by now. Weiren frowns at the mirror, tilting their head to get as good a look at the damage as possible, except even just that makes the wounds twinge. How much blood did they lose this time? In the moment it felt like even more than before. They’re definitely feeling chillier than they were prior to this meeting.

Weiren adjusts their cloak yet again. They don’t want any of their friends to take notice. They’d all been against them giving blood to Queen Vicouryn when she was on death’s door; they are sure to react poorly if they learn that Weiren has given her even more the morning after. There’s not much they can do about their pallor; losing however much blood did give them a grayer tone. 

They grip their amulet and whisper a few words, infusing their body with temporary vitality, though it is not nearly enough to counteract the effects of the bite, and by the late afternoon the effects will wear away. Unfortunately, even with that spell they look drained.

Well, Weiren supposes, it can simply appear as if they are still recovering from the first bite. Their friends don’t need to know about the other one. 

The paladin splashes some water on their face, gently pats their cheeks, and leaves the washroom.

“Thank you, Nahlia. I’m ready,” Weiren says as they close the door behind them. There’s a sympathetic expression on her face that Weiren isn’t sure how to feel about.

“You know,” the queen’s aide says, leaning in and lowering her voice, “I am grateful that you were willing to go through with such a request. The Queen is a complex woman, but it has been a year since the last Blood Vow, and I cannot imagine the control she must wield in order to keep to that schedule. There are not many who know everything, and consequently there are not many who can help her in such a way.”

Weiren nods. “So I was told,” they say, still mildly put out by the way the interaction in the study ended, and Nahlia begins to guide Weiren back to the other wing of the manor castle, where the Crystal Concord currently has rooms for their stay in Mevaden.

“Is… is there really no one else?” Weiren asks after some hesitation. Surely a woman of her power has subjects at her disposal? Nahlia doesn’t turn back, only slows her pace.

“Not really, no,” she answers, “people of strength such as yourself are few and far between. Especially one so… compassionate.”

“You think of me as naive?” Weiren frowns at the long pause before Nahlia’s chosen descriptor. The attendant looks back, shaking her head.

“No, not at all,” Nahlia protests firmly, slightly flustered at having her words perceived as insulting, “Although I have known you a scant few days, I can tell you are a good person. You saved my queen, and for that I am eternally grateful. Not only did you save her, but you showed compassion even after learning the truth. Any other person would have acted out of fear.”

Weiren looks down, focusing on the dark carpet beneath their feet as they think over Nahlia’s words. So the queen really does not have anyone strong enough to drink from, and they truly were the best option.

“And, she may not show it, but the queen holds you in very high regard. Higher than your friends, even,” Nahlia leans in to whisper the last part softly, at which Weiren’s eyes widen. High regard? Back in the study, it felt like the queen viewed Weiren as nothing more than prey; a vessel of blood from which she is free to drink at her behest at no cost, and barely anything more. 

“I’m not so sure,” Weiren says quietly. They’re unremarkable, it makes no sense for a queen like her to think of them like that.

“She would not let you see herself in such a state if she did not,” Nahlia continues, and Weiren bites their lip. The Queen had merely lost control, but the glint in Nahlia’s eye seems to imply more.

“I… thank you for your words,” Weiren finally says, not sure how to deal with this information.

“However you feel about it, the fact is you have done a great service for Mevaden and her majesty. Please, take the rest of the day to use as you see fit. The Blood Vow will begin at midnight, and the Queen will be expecting you and your friends afterwards.” Nahlia gestures to the door of their room, in which Kainen may or may not still be sleeping soundly. “Have a good day.”

Weiren watches Nahlia leave, sighing as their thoughts swirl in their head. It’s painful how they can still imagine the pressure of Queen Vicouryn’s arms around their body despite the way she dismissed them. It isn’t fair that she can have such an effect on them; Weiren simply hasn’t had the luxury of pursuing any sort of physical interaction with anyone beyond training and comforting hugs. Weiren rests a hand on the doorknob as their mind wanders. How frequently does the queen indulge herself with physical contact? Sure, she is a queen, but she’s an intimidatingly stoic woman and there is no knowledge, as far as they know, of any kind of spouse or lover. Is… it possible that Queen Vicouryn too seeks the same intimacy as Weiren? Is it possible that the bite is merely an excuse to hold someone in her undead arms?

Weiren shakes their head violently. This train of thought will do nothing for them. At the end of the day, there is nothing more to come between them and the queen. The Blood Vow will pass, the party will meet with her, they’ll prepare for their journey, and then depart a day later. Once the queen has partaken in the Blood Vow, she will not have any more need for Weiren. They are simply a source of blood, and she will have had enough of that after tonight. 

“Oh, good morning, Weiren,” a soft, accented voice says, and Weiren snaps to attention. Across the hall behind them, Lynne is closing the door to her and Dormin’s room. She’s several inches shorter than Weiren, with lavender skin and horns protruding from her upper forehead that curve back over the crown of her head. Dark purple hair falls to her mid back, with two locks resting on either side of her chest on a well-crafted coat of Mevaden make. And thankfully, she’s of a healthier hue than yesterday, no longer drained by Varis’ curse.

Not that they can say they’re doing as well as her...

“Good morning,” Weiren returns, a small smile on their face. It’s good to see her doing better. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” Lynne nods with a contented smile of her own, “and you?”

“Fine,” Weiren answers, very aware of the slight ache on their neck and praying that it isn’t visible, “It’s hard to know what to do with the time, though.” As an elf, they don’t really sleep that often. Normally they sit in a trance for several hours, and use the rest of the time writing in their notebook or walking about. Perhaps Queen Vicouryn had managed to snag them so early in the morning knowing that they’re an elf like her, and would be awake to receive the summon without their friends around. 

“Well, Dormin’s still asleep. I’m not surprised, considering how rough the fight was last night,” Lynne sighs, glancing in concern back at the door. Dormin had been a sorry sight, honestly. Barely standing and white as a sheet, Varis had drained nearly all of his blood. They’re all fortunate that Dormin survived; he quite literally was on death’s door and surely his deity Garmir was waiting with baited breath to receive his paladin lest he fell.

“Kainen as well,” Weiren says. He hadn’t fared much better than Dormin. Weiren had had to carry the warrior out in their arms.  _ Thankfully _ . They’re not sure how to act around the scion at the moment. They know it isn’t his fault he was charmed by Varis, but still...

“Just us, then. Do you want to get breakfast somewhere?” Lynne asks, and Weiren assesses their hunger. Currently, their stomach is full, but it couldn’t hurt to eat a little more to help replenish what they lost. 

“That sounds good,” Weiren agrees, “I might not eat much though. I’m not feeling too hungry.”

Lynne folds her arms and shoots a stern look at them.

“That’s not smart, Weiren. You lost much blood last night. The rest of us were fine after Varis was dealt with, but I can see that you’re a little pale. It doesn’t seem like you’ve fully recovered from…  _ her _ .” Lynne’s voice lowers at the last word, and Weiren can hear the disdain in Lynne’s voice. She still probably thinks it was stupid of them to give blood, and Weiren’s sure that the tiefling has her own opinions on the queen. Not to mention Lynne had been the first one to bear the infliction of blood loss. They shift their weight from left to right nervously. Lynne’s opinions aren’t without reason but Weiren did just give away even more blood just earlier this morning, and surely Lynne will disapprove greatly.

“I had a bit of food earlier,” Weiren says, “an hour or so ago. But I’d love to join you.” It will be nice to just be around an actually friendly face, especially one who isn’t brainwashed or trying to manipulate them into sacrificing their blood (as far as they know, at least). 

Lynne raises a brow and begins walking. “Come on, then.” She beckons for Weiren to follow. The two of them make their way out of the manor castle, Weiren making expressly sure that they avoid looking at the doors to both the audience chamber and the queen’s study, for fear of her presence.

“Where are we going?” Weiren asks, squinting as they step into the sunlight.

“The Fireside Flower. The manor castle is nice and all, but it’s a shame we couldn’t stay at the inn for longer. And as far as I know,” Lynne cups a hand around her mouth mischievously as they leave the property of the manor castle, “there aren’t any undead lurking in the shadows there.”

Weiren sweats and pulls their cloak around their shoulders a little tighter.

“Good point,” they say, feigning a chuckle. Thankfully, with the food they had and the time that has passed, they’re able to go about their business as usual, mostly. There are a few brief dizzy spells, but they pass quickly enough. Lynne probably assumes it’s from last night’s encounter, and not from anything else. Weiren wonders if they would have recovered by now if they hadn’t endured a second draining. 

The two adventurers make it to the fanciful building soon enough. It looks just as it had previously: tall, elegant, and very high-class. Weiren closes their eyes and sighs; they’ll get used to it eventually.

Weiren lets Lynne do the talking, and a waitress leads them to a secluded table in the corner of the establishment and hands them menus. 

“Take your pick,” Lynne says over her menu, “it’s on me today. You need to focus on regaining your strength.”

Weiren’s face softens at the show of kindness. It’s been nice to have such good friends alongside them.

“Are you sure? Besides, I’m not that hungry,” they say, opening the menu to take a look at the options, searching for something small.

Lynne shoots them a smirk and places a gold coin down on the table, challenging them. “It’s already done.”

At that, Weiren laughs a bit.

“If you say so.”

***

Weiren spends a very, very long time wandering Mevaden. Dressed in the dark clothes native to the town, they blend in as best as they can, staying as unnoticed as possible. Their breakfast with Lynne was a nice reprieve from whatever strange hell Queen Vicouryn is intent on putting them through, and they finally had a real chance to relax for a bit. After the two finished, Lynne bid them farewell and returned to the manor castle to find the rest of their party, while Weiren expressed a desire to see the sights on their own. They aren’t sure they’re ready to hang around Dormin and Kainen again so soon, not after realizing the pair had been compromised for a time. The vampiric power to charm and sway victims is a powerful one, and Weiren dislikes how it pushes their friends away.

The paladin makes their way to the less wealthier parts of the city, finding themself more at ease in those areas. It’s calming to disappear into the crowds of people. No more attention on them, and certainly not any deadly vampiric gaze watching. They pass several shops, perusing their contents. A bookshop catches their eye, and Weiren leaves with a few novels and an informative collection of analyses on the origins of Mevaden. Maybe they can learn more about the queen.

Weiren, unfortunately stumbles into an awkward meeting with Kainen on a bench on some nondescript street, but they end it as quickly as possible, pointing out that perhaps the party should regroup to discuss plans. It’s made more uncomfortable when Dormin professes concern over the nature of Queen Vicouryn, and Weiren tries to keep a still face as their neck throbs.

Time passes relentlessly, Weiren weaving between calm solitude and stiff encounters until a gentle rain hits the glass of the windows.

“Pardon me, Crystal Concord,” Nahlia’s voice says, and Weiren looks up, blinking, having lost themself to writing in their journal to test the new quill they’d gotten. At some point, the party had convened in Dormin and Lynne’s room and Nahlia had knocked and entered. “The Blood Vow will be starting soon. You have the option to observe the event at any designated point in the city, or in the manor castle, where the nobles will be participating. After the event concludes, the queen would like to hold an audience with you all and give you a reward for your service to the city.”

Weiren’s internal voice screams to just find a random area outside to go, but the party seems interested in witnessing the vow here, in the castle. Outside the window, Weiren can see bright bonfires lining the outer wall of the city; six, to be precise, the other areas the party could have chosen. The sky is cloudy and gray, but the rain is far too gentle to have any effect on the flames. They return, glumly, to their room to find their finer clothes, which are sure to be required for any event at the castle. The comfortable and thick coat and trousers are replaced with stiffer, layered clothing with fine trim along the edges, and the party, lead by Nahlia, makes their way to the courtyard. There’s a specific area for their party, as they are not allowed to participate.

Weiren’s hand absently rubs at the side of their neck.  _ Except they already had... _

A large stone bowl sits in the center of the courtyard, with priests around it. Words are said and prayers made, but Weiren just stares at the array of small, intricate knives available at the edge of the bowl. The people come and go, taking a bloodletting knife to cut into their palms, letting a red stream drip into the bowl, before returning it to be cleaned and passed to another. 

So this is how the queen subsists. The bowl fills, but not to the brim. It seems as if each person gives around half a cup, and Weiren can’t help but think about how they definitely lost far, far more than these people. There’s a significant pool gathered at the bottom, and at the end, Weiren blinks in surprise when crimson begins to sink and drain away to nothingness. There’s no hole, or grate, so some magic must be at play.

Finally, the last of the blood is gone, leaving behind a dry, stone bowl, as if nothing had ever touched it. The castle manor doors open, and Weiren looks up to see none other than Queen Vicouryn striding from it, and they immediately can tell that somehow, she has already absorbed all of the blood that had vanished mere moments ago. She glides, confidently and serenely, in a dark shadowy dress, towards the bowl. Her hands are covered with long black gloves that run far up her arm to meet the sleeves of the gown. Red accents curl down the length of the front and up the sides of her arms in elegant, swirling, featherlike patterns. As the queen steps closer to the bowl, and consequently closer to Weiren, they can feel a thrum of energy in the air that sends chills down their spine. The murmurs and whispers of the nobles around fall silent at the arrival of the queen. Weiren can’t look away, at first, as she surveys the crowd while continuing to walk, her eyes glinting darkly, but they turn their head when it seems as if her gaze will pass over the Crystal Concord’s group.

Somehow, even while looking away, Weiren can feel Queen Vicouryn’s eyes on them for the brief moment that they are, and it's scary how palpable it feels, like the air around them electrifies and the hair on the back of their neck stands up. They take in a heavy breath, curling their hands into fists, waiting for the gaze to move on. It’s absurd how they can physically feel the change when it does, shoulders dropping in relief. The nobles will merely see it as a strong presence, but Weiren knows the truth behind it. The whole of the Crystal Concord does, and they look equally disturbed.

So this is the queen at her peak. Her full moon, so to speak, when she is at her most powerful. As time passes so will her power wane, until the next Blood Vow.

In the silence and stillness, the queen gracefully draws a glove off, taking the ritual bloodletting dagger in her hand to do as the nobles did. A small stream of blood spills from her hand into the bowl, and she closes her fingers briefly. The blood stays, in the bowl, and she rests her palm on the edge of it, leaving a red mark.

Weiren watches, and nods when she slides the glove back on. Of course, the wound is already closed. They can barely imagine how fast she heals now, how much stronger she is now. She won’t be needing them anymore.

The priests continue to speak, alongside the queen, as the ritual continues, but Weiren can’t focus on the words. Queen Vicouryn’s presence is too powerful, and too distracting, and they’re terrified, now even more than before, of her attention being set on them.

“I know it is late, but before you all retire, the Queen wishes to speak you about your reward, and to tell you her plans,” Nahlia’s soft voice filters in, somehow, and Weiren lets out a breath they didn’t know they’d been holding. The whole party is feeling a similar tension, as they all know about the truth. “As you know, she is most active during the night, and most easy to speak to.”

Weiren forces themself to agree.

“Let’s go, then,” they say, mentally preparing themself. Lynne nods in agreement.

“Alright.”

The Crystal Concord follows Nahlia again, back into the manor castle, leaving behind the nobles and the bowl of blood to find themselves in the audience chamber once more. A red carpet leads from the door to the queen’s chair, drawing the eye directly towards the elf. Weiren shifts their posture again, their hands cold, as they look up at the seated Queen Vicouryn, flanked by several of her attendants including Nahlia, throne placed on a raised platform of about three steps. While the woman herself exudes power and status, at the very least the chamber is more comfortable than the throne rooms of the previous kings they’ve met. There are no tall pillars or grand murals, but the intimacy of the room is another sort of intimidation itself.

There’s a faint smile playing at the queen’s lips, but it is not a smile of goodwill and amiability. Weiren casts their eyes downward, staring at the subtle trim of the red carpet. They don’t have it inside them to look back up, and simply listen.

“I’m sure you are expecting a very well-deserved reward for aiding me in Varis’ betrayal. It was handled as well as I could have hoped, with a long time thorn in my side being removed in a splendid fashion,” she begins, leaning back in her chair. Weiren can hear the satisfaction in her voice, and remembers the wooden stake buried in Varis’ chest. They shudder; the entire encounter had been the most harrowing of all, with perhaps the exception of the party’s experience in Gishal and the Eighth Marker. “I’m in a good mood, and I’ve made the decision that even though your mission over the past few nights was offered so that I’d participate in the  _ council _ of the Doluum Alliance and travel out of my city to meet with the rambunctious kings I’ve aligned myself with, that you are just as deserving of a monetary reward as well.”

The queen raises a hand towards Nahlia, who dips her head and then approaches the party with a tray, upon which an ornate chest sits. The attendant unlatches the chest gracefully, revealing three, separate, full pouches in the interior. Coin purses, Weiren recognizes, albeit far fancier than ones they normally use. It’s sure to be a staggering amount of money.

“Twenty-five hundred gold pieces,” Nahlia states, allowing the party to look for several moments before closing the chest. “It will be delivered to your chambers after this meeting.”

Weiren closes their eyes. It’s an  _ incredibly  _ staggering amount of money. Even a single gold would have been life-changing to them in their former years. They wonder about their neighborhood in Vangath. How are the others faring? This money could very well transform the livelihood of everyone they knew and then some.

“It has been a long time since any one group has earned that much gold for a single service, especially those who are not sworn to the city of Mevaden,” the queen says, folding her hands, “I hope you use it well in the future, wherever your endeavors take you. As for the council of the Doluum Kings and myself, in a few days I will be leaving Mevaden for the first time in a few years to meet with them and discuss the war efforts against Brauven, from which I have been notified are progressing at an acceptable pace. But as of tonight, you are freed from any service you have held towards me.” Weiren frowns at that, not sure whether to believe if that applies to them as well. But again, she no longer needs any more blood. This should be the end of their business with the queen. “You are guests in my city, and you have access to any services you require within reason. But, you have done well, and I imagine we’ll be seeing more of each other in the future. That is all.”

Weiren swallows at the prospect of a future meeting with the queen. Dormin is the first to react, dropping into a low bow. “Thank you for the sizable reward. I am very glad to know that you will be upholding your end of the deal. We are honored to be of service to the city.” His words are calm, and appropriately formal. The man is made for these situations. Charming and strong, he works well around nobility. Weiren can’t say the same for themself.

“Hopefully this war with Brauven gets finished quickly, and Mevaden can continue to grow. I see a different future ahead of us, as long as the other two kings know how to handle themselves in troubled times,” the queen states, inclining her head slightly. There’s another pause as she gives the group another opportunity to say anything more, but no one takes it.

“Well, then, I have only a few more words for you,” she sits up straighter, and her gaze sharpens, though the slight smile remains. It’s very predator-like, and Weiren shivers.

“The four of you, the Crystal Concord,” she addresses, “have begun to learn of secrets, history, that might prove burdensome to you, because you carry dangerous weapons. Things that threaten people of great power. Things that threaten  _ me _ ,” The queen continues, the edge in her voice clear, “I will be paying very close attention to what you do, and to what words you say in the future. I hope you can understand.”

Weiren doesn’t think the prospect of the queen somehow watching their group for the rest of their lives is very appealing, but they can understand why she says this. Still, though. 

At this, Kainen, also bows to the queen. “I understand your precautions. I can’t say anything for the others, but I personally have other secrets that I’m preoccupied with, so, you needn’t worry about anything from me.”

“Of course, your majesty,” Weiren says dryly, because what else can they even say? Lynne and Dormin nod alongside them, and the queen leans back again in her chair, a hand raising to her chin.

“If there is need of a personal audience with me, let Nahlia know; however,” she pauses, her voice hardening ever so slightly, “do not  _ waste  _ my time with useless questions. Now, you are dismissed.”

Weiren doesn’t miss the way the queen’s eyes flit towards them, giving them an intentional stare. No one seems to notice as the guards usher the group to the door and the attendants move to deliver the reward. They cock their head slightly in confusion; what more can the queen want from them? But her gaze only intensifies as she tilts her chin down ever so slightly. 

Oh, no. The dark eyes flash amber, and Weiren can’t look away. Not again. Weiren inhales sharply and tries to fight the stare, but they’re locked in place for the moment. A strange thought crosses their mind, that perhaps it would be productive to seek a personal audience with the queen. Sweat beads on the back of their neck, and all at once, the queen turns her gaze elsewhere, releasing them from her hold. Weiren looks at her incredulously, trying to calm their breathing, and the queen only gives them a nod, and looks away. 

Weiren shuffles out of the room after their companions, mind spinning with implications.  _ Why  _ would they want a personal audience with the queen? Must the queen use her vampiric power to plant the idea in their head? Although, it seems as if she isn't trying to force them to do anything or make them say something they don’t want to, merely pass on, in a weird way, her request.

“Weiren, are you alright?” a familiar voice comes from their side, and Weiren glances over to see Lynne, her brows drawn together in concern.

“Oh, yes, I’m fine,” they say immediately, “you- you know me. I don’t do so well among… nobility.” Lynne frowns, pity apparent in her face.

“You should rest up tonight. Perhaps by tomorrow you’ll have fully recovered,” she suggests, a gentle hand on Weiren’s shoulder. The slight contact sends Weiren’s mind tumbling away, recalling instead the cold fingers of Queen Vicouryn wrapping around that same spot.

“I think you’re right,” Weiren agrees, and shakes their head to clear their mind as Lynne’s hand falls away. 

There’s a strange expression on Lynne’s face that Weiren can’t quite pinpoint, but it doesn’t seem as if she fully believes what they’re saying. Weiren straightens up and sends her a weak smile, putting up some kind of a more active facade as they all walk down the halls. 

Part way back to the rooms, Kainen separates from the party, claiming he’d just remembered something he’d needed to do. Weiren watches his figure walk quickly down the hall, disappearing back around the corner they’d just taken. So he has something to discuss with the queen as well, perhaps about her knowledge of the scions. 

Weiren is glad to have the room to themselves for a moment to recuperate. Clearly, at least they think, the queen wants them for one last meeting. Hopefully not for any blood, for Weiren thinks they might just up and die if the queen takes any more.


	4. A Private Audience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiren meets the queen for a second private audience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they call this one a gentle sprinkling of spice

Weiren finds a nearby alcove with a chair and waits for the sound of the door opening to approach the audience chamber. Part of them had entertained the idea of just  _ not  _ going, but they’re so curious that they can’t help but wonder what she wants. A small part of them wants to imagine scenarios that will somehow lead to some kind of a physical touch, again, but  _ no _ , they shake their head, that would be  _ absurd.  _ The queen of a kingdom has no reason to care about such a thing…

...Unless she’s a stoic vampire queen, who takes  _ no  _ companionship and holds everyone at a distance in order to keep her vampirism a secret… perhaps? 

Weiren mentally bangs their head. Stop.  _ Stop _ . This is infuriating, and shameful. Weiren feels the hot tendrils of embarrassment curling up their body. It’s too much. One person should not be able to drive them crazy in such a way.

It is only one more meeting. After that, it will be over, Weiren guesses. After that, they’ll be free. Free of the queen’s strange mind games and fangs, and free of the cold arms that can so easily embrace them. Weiren’s arms come up to hold themself, a poor imitation of the sensation, and they sigh in dissatisfaction, curling into their body. Why must such a simple gesture wreak so much havoc upon them? They sink further into the chair and stare out the window, waiting, dreading.

“Weiren.” Speak of the devil. And yet, not addressed as ‘paladin.’ Their name in her voice is too much, and Weiren’s head shoots up, looking around in confusion. How much time has passed? They haven’t even heard the door open, but the energy in the air from the queen’s presence is definitely around them. They must have zoned out. They scramble to their feet immediately, adrenaline already beginning to flow. Queen Vicouryn, alongside Nahlia and another attendant, stands several feet away from them. The dim moonlight from the window behind them shines upon the queen’s face, illuminating her dark eyes.

A second passes, and somehow they remember procedure, and throw their upper body down into a frantic bow.

“Your majesty,” they say, holding themself there for just a moment before standing straight, “I uh- I thought you were meeting with Kainen.”

“That business is concluded,” the queen replies smoothly, eyeing them, “Unfortunately, it was  _ not _ a productive meeting.”  _ Uh oh _ , Weiren thinks. Hopefully the scion didn’t get obliterated on the spot. “I am busy, so I will be returning to the study to continue my work. However, if you also desire an audience, you are free to accompany me, provided that it is short and  _ not  _ a waste of my time.” Weiren’s eyebrows come together just a little bit.  _ She _ was the one who used her vampiric magic to communicate that  _ she  _ wanted  _ them  _ to come for a meeting. It all falls in line with her character as far as they know, though. As a queen, Vicouryn is not one to simply  _ ask _ . The interaction must be viewed as if Weiren is one requesting her time, not the other way around, especially now that their official business has concluded. The queen’s eyes are calculating, and Weiren nods, reading between the lines.

“I would appreciate it,” they say, in as measured a voice they can muster, “I have a few matters to discuss.”

Few matters indeed.

At that, the queen inclines her head in acknowledgement and turns to continue down the hall, towards the study. She signals with a hand for Weiren to follow, and they trail behind her, leaving a safe distance between them and the attendants. 

Hopefully, this is the last meeting. After this, everything between them and the queen will be over. The party will head north, they’ll be long gone, and they’ll stop thinking about the chill touch of the vampire queen’s hand resting on their cheek.

They walk to the study almost in a trance, staring after the queen and her aides. The dark halls blur together in a strange way as they move. A pale moonlight streams in through the windows as the clouds shift, although raindrops still roll down the glass. The only other light comes from sparse candles, but they’re quickly left behind. All of a sudden they’re at the large wooden doors once again, although this time there are no guards. 

“You are both dismissed for the rest of night. Please, take the time for yourselves,” The queen speaks, and Weiren looks back up to see Nahlia and the other attendant bowing their heads before bidding the queen a good night. So it will be as personal as the last meeting, with no one else but them two, Weiren realizes as they watch the two women depart. The thought frightens and thrills them. Of course, again, without the rest of the Concord they will be standing on much less ground compared to her. She is so much more powerful than they are and they don't know what to expect. Whatever happens they will most likely just have to go along with it and mollify her so that they can escape.

To their surprise, Queen Vicouryn reaches out and pulls the doors open herself, and then gestures for them to enter before her. 

At a loss for words, Weiren mumbles a soft thanks and sheepishly shuffles in, avoiding eye contact. Most of the room is shrouded in darkness, but the one large window on the back wall allows a strong ray of moonlight inside, falling across the queen’s desk and floor towards them. Somewhere above, a cloud encroaches on the celestial body, and the room dims further.

The door shuts, quietly, behind them, and though they can barely hear the queen’s footsteps, they can feel the energy of her presence as she steps past them. It’s almost dizzying, how she radiates power now. Weiren feels a chill run down their back. She looks over her shoulder, barely, making eye contact with the paladin, and Weiren feels their feet continue to go forward, locked in her gaze as they approach the desk. They’re not sure if it's her vampiric manipulation or their own motions, trying to keep up. After a few steps she returns her gaze forward, her back facing Weiren as they both come to a halt.

“It is fortunate you have come to meet me,” the queen says without turning around.

“What do you require of me, your majesty?” Weiren asks, finding it hard to get the words out of their dry throat, and they cough slightly, trying to clear it. The queen’s head tilts to the side, silhouetted by the window.

“This…  _ meeting _ … is for your benefit, paladin.” She turns, slowly, to face them properly, and Weiren straightens their back at the attention. For some reason, she does not make direct eye contact, which is partially concerning, but also reassuring somehow. It’s against her usual behavior, but hopefully it means Weiren won’t feel any weird compulsions that stem from her gaze? Maybe…

“M-mine, you say?” Weiren says, squinting briefly in confusion. The last meeting had been about how Vicouryn could benefit from  _ them _ . More specifically, their blood. 

“Yes.” The queen nods, calmly, and Weiren feels the thrum of her presence wane slightly. Her influence is fading down to a more comfortable level, thank Celaste Moren. Is she doing it on purpose? “The events of this morning occurred against my better judgement, though I will not deny its value in strengthening me. That being said-” the queen glances down, looking into Weiren’s eyes, “-it was not an appropriate course of action to take given the circumstances.”

It’s strange, Weiren thinks, the way they match Vicouryn’s gaze. It’s not as overwhelming anymore, which makes no sense, since she’s just replenished her power to her maximum. Or perhaps the queen is being more mindful of her effect on them, and is intentionally holding back.

But this… Weiren isn’t sure how to feel. The queen regrets this morning and in a way they kind of wish she didn’t, but it’s… good to know that she realizes it was… for lack of a better term, pretty devious? Or at the very least, as she says, ‘inappropriate.’ Certainly it was an experience that… had effects.

“So this isn’t another, um,” Weiren flounders, “blood transaction?” 

The queen’s completely stoic demeanor breaks as she laughs in a low tone, and Weiren feels relief. Like perhaps they’d managed to return to the strange, slightly more comfortable atmosphere they’d had with her this morning.

“Were I to partake again so soon, you would cease to live. Even one such as yourself could not withstand another draining in so short a time.”

“Yes, that’s sort of what I was worried about,” Weiren jokes, and then exhales. The queen smirks in her subtle way, and Weiren hopes she is amused. The paladin is glad to know they aren't going to die, but a part of them is disappointed. Without the excuse of drinking blood, there’s no reason for the two of them ever to make physical contact again. Ah well. That’s how they’ve spent most of their life, so it doesn’t matter. 

“In addition, with the Blood Vow completed, I have had my fill. I will not require any more… sustenance, for a long time.” The queen then turns back to the desk, and gestures to the extra chairs in front of it. “Have a seat, paladin,” she offers, moving around to take her own seat on the ornate wooden chair behind the desk. Weiren approaches one of the chairs, feeling their nerves settle. The whole interaction has been far less horrible than their anxiety led them to believe. The queen lays a hand on the armrest of her own chair, pauses, and then withdraws. Weiren watches curiously as the vampire instead looks around the room.

The elf paladin follows her gaze to the side. A currently unlit fireplace rests along the wall on a side of the room, with a low table and few upholstered chairs and benches in front of it. The queen takes a single step toward that area, and then gestures.

“Actually, I believe this conversation is better suited to be had here.” Queen Vicouryn retrieves a partially-used candle from her desk, and with a motion of her fingers, a small flame alights. Weiren nods, sure, but the placement of two of the benches facing each other worries them a little. Each one is wide enough for two people, perhaps three with a squeeze. There’s another table sort of between them, but it's pushed more off to the side, seemingly a surface for light sources or beverages, leaving the space between the chairs empty. “Come.”

Weiren follows the command wordlessly, leaving behind the familiar desk to approach this other area. The queen sets the candle on the table and sits down in one of the wide chairs, back straight and hands folded across her lap. There is only a foot or two of space from her chair to the other, and Weiren takes another breath to calm themself. Is the queen really expecting them to sit that close? Almost as if in response to the thought, Queen Vicouryn turns her head to regard them expectantly, and Weiren hurries their pace. 

The candle adds a certain amount of ambience, casting an orange glow on the side of Queen Vicouryn’s face. A slow rumble sounds as a cloud blocks the moon out entirely, leaving the candle as the only source of light. Beyond the threshold of the candlelight is complete darkness. 

Before sitting, Weiren starts to pull off the Mevaden-style overcoat. Their own emotions and adrenaline have caused them to heat up, and the vampiric presence of the queen is stifling, but they freeze part way through. Is… it rude to do so in front of a queen? Weiren sneaks a glance at the vampire, who still wears an expression of barely perceptible amusement. 

“It’s uh- it’s a little warm,” they mumble, and the corner of the queen’s lips lifts even farther up. Oh gods. Weiren flushes at the look, but continues to remove the coat and drapes it across the back of the cushioned bench. There, that’s a lot better. They want to unbutton their collar, too, as it’s stiff and uncomfortable, but think better of it, considering it's their wounded neck that lies behind that fabric. These cursed fine clothes just keep getting on their nerves. Finally, Weiren settles down in their seat, sticking to the side closest to the fireplace and preparing themself for whatever the queen is going to say. They grip the ends of the armrest, finding the solid wood comforting in their hands.

“I will say, there is a certain charm to seeing you in the garments of Mevaden.”

Weiren blinks, mouth partly open. What?

Yet again, the queen laughs. “As always, your reactions are quite entertaining, Weiren. Now,” she says, smoothing her expression down to one of business, “let us discuss the matter at hand.” Weiren, flustered, tries to force the red away from their face. “As I previously mentioned, you have done me a service, even more than what was agreed, at a cost to yourself. I would like to see if there is something that can be done in return.”

Weiren is astonished, but they try to cover that expression. They were not expecting any offer of the sort.

“I-I can’t-” they begin. They’d already accepted what had happened, “I mean, I don’t  _ need  _ anything in return. It-it was an honor to help you,” they ramble, shaking their head. The only thing they would want would never even be considered as an option, so there’s nothing. “You already rewarded us; I wouldn’t expect anything more-”

“Listen, paladin,” The queen says, slow and dangerous, and Weiren shuts up. “I do not let debts go unpaid, and I do not make offers like this frequently. I urge you to reconsider.” Her words sound more like a threat, and Weiren curls their hands into fists, staring down at the ground, fear running up their body. Why must she act in such a way? “There must be something you desire in return,” she says, voice softening, and Weiren’s head snaps up, eyes wide. Does she know? At their silence, she continues. “Being who I am, I have access to much. Gold, weapons, trinkets, services. Does none of that interest you?”

Weiren closes their eyes, sighing, and slowly shakes their head.

“Perhaps not,” the queen tsks, “However, there is something else that you may find acceptable as payment.” There’s something in her voice that just makes Weiren’s blood run cold. There’s some kind of an implication in her tone.

Queen Vicouryn reaches out a beckoning hand, palm facing upward. “Your hand, paladin,” she says, although it’s most likely a command. Perhaps she has some kind of ring or accessory, a symbol of her favor. Weiren extends their right hand towards hers, wondering curiously what it might be. 

Every thought comes to a grinding halt when the queen takes their hand in hers, and simply curls her fingers around theirs. Weiren stares, shocked, looking from the contact to the queen, mouth open but no words coming. The queen’s hand is cold, as to be expected, but the grip is firm and gentle. She holds their gaze with a still, calculating expression. And then, her other hand, rises, so slowly, towards them. Every single one of Weiren’s muscles is locked in place, their mind scrambling to put itself back together but the touch is so unexpected that they’re frozen. The queen’s free hand makes contact with their shoulder, fingers just barely brushing against the fabric that hides the wound she inflicted upon them. Then, slower still, she drags the hand upwards, the backs of her fingers sliding up the side of their neck, around the curve of their jaw, until it rests on their face in the same way it had before. The whole time, her face almost infuriatingly calm, somehow, despite sending Weiren tumbling through so many emotions that their mind practically breaks. This time, there is no bite to explain her actions.

A white light flashes through the window, and merely seconds after, a crack of thunder booms, and the drizzle turns to a pounding storm. Weiren jumps, snapping out of their petrified state, and the queen cocks her head, still maintaining the placement of her hands.

“Am I wrong?” she asks, even though the answer is obvious, and Weiren glances away, inadvertently turning their head to press a little more into her hand. They can’t reply; it’s too much. The queen’s thumb drifts down, breezing across their lips, as if what she’s doing isn’t already destroying the walls they’ve built around themself. It’s terrifying, it’s overwhelming, and it’s everything they ever wanted. Weiren feels a lump begin to form in their throat, tears beginning to well. They don’t know how to feel; it’s cathartic and devastating at the same time. They feel so fragile, like glass, and close their eyes, hanging onto the gentle pressure on their face.

“It appears as though I am correct,” the queen says, and she sounds so indifferent in a way that both hurts and reassures.

Weiren waits for the judgement, but there is none to be found.

“It’s a shame that you hold yourself back from such things,” Queen Vicouryn says, ”one would think a heroic paladin such as yourself would have a wide array of companionship. How long have you been like this?”

Weiren lets out a choked breath, and presses their free hand to their eyes, forcing away their tears. They feel Vicouryn's fingers start to slip away from their hand and they pull back, trying to hang on.

“Wait, don’t-” they say through shuddering breaths, desperately trying to calm their body down. The queen’s hand ceases motion, and Weiren relaxes their own grip. Thankfully, their hands remain in contact. “I’m sorry.” What are they even doing?

“Do not apologize, Weiren,” the queen says, and Weiren lowers their free hand, looking at her through their stinging eyes. There’s some discomfort in her face, no doubt thanks to Weiren’s overemotional reaction. It’s probably not that common for her to be around someone in tears. “I am the one who acted first.”

They shake their head and then lean into the queen’s palm, focusing on the spots of contact and sounds of pounding rain, grounding themself. “But isn’t this so pitiful? I’m just… why does this affect me so much?” Shame colors their cheeks; how weak must they be to fall to pieces at the mere touch of another?

“Listen, paladin,” the queen says, calmly but firmly, and Weiren looks up at her, “It is natural for people to seek the companionship of others. In all my years I have witnessed much, but that observation remains constant. Deprivation of such a thing can be crushing.” As she speaks, her thumb traces a circular motion across their fingers.

Weiren nods, sniffling a bit, and feels their emotions settle back down. Somehow the queen, as opposed to their previous interactions with her, is helping them find some semblance of calm.

“How did you know?” They ask quietly, although they’re fairly certain they know the answer.  _ And why does she care? _

“I am very intuitive, and can perceive much. I had my own expectations from the prior night, though I was more focused on the other issues at hand. Your reactions from the morning incident were what truly gave it away,” she answers, still with her impassive voice. So they really had done a poor job of hiding it. They sigh, again, but it’s really not that surprising. They hadn’t even fooled themself.

“So you knew, when you asked for more blood. You knew I was like this,” Weiren says. They’re still not sure how to react, staying as still as they can under the ministrations of the queen. At their insightful comment, the queen, this time, casts her eyes a different direction.

“I had reasonable doubt that you would decline me, yes,” she says, before looking back. Weiren’s not mad about it, really. It was a clever move to make in order to obtain more blood, especially from one who seemed to enjoy aspects of the bite. The exchange, though with its ups and downs, had been symbiotic in nature. They don’t regret it, although the way the meeting ended was a little sour. Even so, it barely matters in the face of the present.

“So, why are you doing this now?” They continue, briefly closing their eyes. Had their own suspicions been correct as well? That meeting with them had been an excuse not just to drink their blood, but to touch as well? “I- I find it hard to believe a queen would go through with this just to soothe the pain of a lonely adventurer.” Weiren opens their eyes as the hand on their cheeks slowly falls, and watches as the queen instead places it on top of Weiren’s, so that their palm is between both of hers. It’s a novel sensation, but they notice equally the absence of the chilled touch on their face. The queen is silent for longer than Weiren expects. Another flash shines, giving the queen a white rim along her silhouette for just a moment, and then after a pause, another clap of thunder.

“You underestimate yourself, paladin,” she says, finally, “and you overestimate me, though not by much. I am not immune to the desire for touch, despite my nature. I am merely more adept at concealing such things.”

Weiren stares at her, and then down at their hands. The queen is doing this not merely out of pity to Weiren, but for herself, as well?

The queen scoffs. “You should understand that being what I am makes it difficult to foster such relationships. It is a well-kept secret that only a small handful of people know; and I intend on keeping it that way. You are fortunate; it is only due to your knowledge of my nature that this course of events even had the potential to take place.”

“My apologies,” they say quickly, as they are wont to do. “I… recognize my luck. Thank you.” At this, the queen inclines her head, apparently satisfied with their response, but then her eyes narrow.

“I doubt it needs to be said, but do not take this as an opportunity to try anything untoward. Were you to do something foolish, there would be…  _ severe  _ consequences.” Her look is piercing as she lays out the threat, and Weiren swallows, nodding.

“I understand,” they answer carefully.

“Though I doubt you would do such a thing,” she appends in a much softer tone, almost so that they can’t hear it, as she shifts her gaze.

Another silence falls upon them, and Weiren lifts their head to observe Queen Vicouryn. She isn’t looking directly at them at the moment, her eyes fixed on something past them, as if lost in thought. The drumming rain continues, filling the quiet. 

Weiren wonders just how lonely the queen actually is, if she experiences the same kind of tumultuous emotions towards the prospect of touch. Not only an elf but a vampire as well, her lifespan can hold centuries of solitude. Weiren’s decades pale in comparison.

Slowly and trembling, Weiren reaches towards her with their free hand as well. As their hand reaches past the threshold of their chair, the queen’s eyes dart towards them, noticing the motion. They freeze, sucking in a sharp breath, but steel themself, matching her dark gaze. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. She just watches, waiting, to see what Weiren will do. The whole situation is so delicate, their hand enveloped in hers and silence weighing heavily. It feels like the wrong action can shatter everything.

The paladin presses onward with resolve. It’s not fair if they’re the only one. The distance between their hand and her form decreases slowly, until they can feel the soft chill of her cheek upon the tips of their fingers. It’s terrifying how the queen doesn’t even flinch. There’s practically no reaction at all, which, at the very least, seems to be better than a negative one. Weiren leans forward a bit, continuing on until they can hold the side of her face as she did theirs. When it's done, a breath they hadn’t known they were holding escapes their lips, shoulders sinking with the release of tension. 

“Does the cold not bother you?” The queen challenges, her jaw moving underneath their touch. “You recall that I am an undead monster, Weiren.”

Weiren shakes their head, still reveling in the fact that they had crossed the bridge themself, this time. “It does not. Am- am I too warm?”

The queen shakes her head and takes back the hand on Weiren’s and reaches up to her face, wrapping her fingers around their wrist to gently pull it away, and then let go. Weiren lets their hand drift, no longer sensing her cold skin, and then settle down on their knee, looking down in disappointment. It’s over, they think, as Vicouryn slides her other hand out from under theirs. It’s all gone again.

Weiren squeezes their eyes shut, berating themself for stepping too far when the weight of the cushions shifts underneath them, and they look back up. The seat in front of them is now empty. Rather, Queen Vicouryn is now sitting on the same bench as they are, now even closer to them, having moved as quietly as a shadow. The two angle their bodies to look at each other, candlelight flickering across their faces. 

The queen reaches out again, and Weiren feels hope come alight in their chest again. Before they realize what’s happening, an arm crests forward along the back of the seat and a hand curls around the side of their head. Another grasps at their shoulder, and Weiren finds themself pulled towards the queen, their body leaning towards her. A half second later, and they’re completely in her embrace. Their head leans against her collarbone, and they can feel a chin come to settle atop their hair. The arms wrap more firmly around them, pressing their bodies together. Weiren can feel her form along their face and chest, and closer still, the sides of their legs come together. Every place that they’re in contact with her is cold, but the pressure is firm and solid.

Weiren can’t breathe, for a bit, as they sink into her touch.

“You are perfectly fine,” the queen says, and Weiren can feel the vibration of her voice against her chest. Slowly, tentatively, they move their own arms, seeking to return the gesture. They reach around her waist, finding purchase on her back where they clasp their hands together, holding on to the moment as hard as they can.

It’s incredible. Weiren feels the tension leave their body as they gratefully accept the queen’s offer. It’s been far too long since they’ve ever been held in such a fashion, or has it ever even occurred? It’s so incredibly comforting to finally feel the security and solidity of another person willingly holding them. They want to stay like this forever. 

“Thank you,” Weiren whispers, feeling their eyes fall closed. They’ve never felt so vulnerable before, and yet it is taken in stride, and they feel safe. One of the queen’s hands moves to brush a loose brown strand of hair back behind their ear, sending goosebumps down their skin. The gesture is almost painfully comforting.

“Hm.” There’s a brief silence as she shifts her weight, her posture stiff at first before slowly relaxing. They’re a little scared of fully leaning into her, but after a bit more adjustment they have no choice, and they let their body go loose in the embrace.

How did this happen? Just earlier this day this woman had been draining their blood in a dangerous fashion, had been using her magical influence to communicate to them, and now they are here, all wrapped up in her arms, basking in her touch, the touch of an undead, of a  _ vampire _ .

“Have you ever considered letting this down?” Queen Vicouryn asks, and Weiren feels a slight tap on the crown of their head. They shift their head slightly, blinking.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” they answer, looking up. It’s too hard to see her face from this angle, their own head practically tucked into the crook of her neck, and they give up, settling back down instead to just feel the queen’s cold skin against their forehead. Part of them wants to shift, to press further against her, but they’re reluctant to go too far.

“May I?” she requests, something that Weiren never expected to hear, as her finger brushes against the golden cord that holds their hair up. This Queen Vicouryn is such a far cry from the cold and calculating woman that sits upon her throne; they aren’t sure how to feel. Beneath the layers of ice and control is an incredible level of care and courtesy, somehow.

“Mhm,” Weiren assents, wondering what for, and the queen takes her time to carefully unwind the binding. There’s a sense of relief as their hair falls free around their shoulders, as it’s normally tied up fairly tightly. Their scalp tingles with the motion, and Weiren sighs when the delicate cold fingers of the queen begin to run through their hair. Even more than a hug, this gesture is more intimate than anything they’d ever experienced. Her hands run along their hairline and brush against their neck, a series of sparks of contact. Weiren feels themself sink even farther.

“This is one of the more pleasant sensations you can bestow upon someone,” Vicouryn says softly, nails gently brushing across their head before combing down the length of Weiren’s hair. They can’t disagree, it feels so soft and deliberate and kind, like they’re being taken care of. “You have unusual but striking coloration, and that is reason enough to show it off. I take it there is some sun elf in your heritage,” she assesses, and Weiren nods into her shoulder. Their hair is mostly dark brown, but there are locks of medium brown and faint gold, too. Weiren mostly views it as weird, but it is interesting to hear the queen talk about it in such a way.

“I don’t particularly like to stand out,” they return.

“That much is obvious,” she replies, twining a lock around a slim finger, “but you should learn how to. Your lack of self-confidence is a large part of why you are the way you are.” She’s referring to their fear of intimacy and nonexistent experience, they know, but she also doesn't know their life. Self-confidence would not have changed much of what happened. It wouldn’t have stopped their family from falling apart, it wouldn’t have stopped them from living on the streets, and it wouldn’t have saved them from being chased from their temple. It wouldn't have stopped them from being so solitary for so long.

“I don’t want to hear your criticism.” Weiren presses their face harder into the shoulder, willing her to stop. This conversation isn’t why they’re here. The queen doesn’t answer, and only continues to play with Weiren’s hair, sending soft shivers down their back. A silence falls over them both, and Weiren hangs onto the moment as long as they can.


	5. Confessions and Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lynne confronts Weiren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> less spice today boys

“Weiren.”

There’s a soft voice somewhere above them, it sounds. Weiren’s drifting, somehow, somewhere. Somewhere in their head they recognize that they’re not in a trance, like usual. Their worries melt away instead to a sense of comfort and safety. This vague unconsciousness resembles sleep, more than anything else. How long has it been since they actually slept without being forced down by strange visions? A comforting hand runs from their forehead down the sides of their face, brushing aside their hair.

“Rise. You need to return to your chambers before your friends awaken,” the voice speaks again, and Weiren blinks blearily. Where are they again? “I have limited patience, paladin.” There’s a sharp edge to the voice in those last words that sends a spike of urgency through their mind, and Weiren feels the clouds in their head clear. Beyond the strange fog, the blurred face of a pale woman looks down at them. Their eyes fly wide open as their vision focuses, revealing none other than Queen Vicouryn, still looking as she did when they last saw her. Somehow, they’re completely horizontal, except for their legs, although they’re pretty certain they hadn’t been last night. Something cushions their head, although it doesn’t feel quite like a pillow.

Oh, no.

Weiren sits up, too quickly, and assesses the situation. As expected, the queen is sitting at the corner of one of the wide cushioned seats, and Weiren has somehow fallen asleep in such a way that their head rested upon her lap.

They spin around wildly, heat rising in their face. “Your majesty, I’m so sorry; I didn’t realize-”

The queen raises a hand, and their words fall away. “It is nothing of consequence, though I was not expecting you to show so much vulnerability so soon.” Weiren blushes harder at that. They hadn’t meant to.

“How… how long has it been?” Weiren asks, but they’re terrified of the answer. Somewhere they’re afraid that it’s been days, that the rest of the Crystal Concord left and moved on without them.

“Only a few hours,” the queen answers, amused at their flustered behavior, “I believe it is nearly dawn, so I would act with haste. The guards and attendants will not be around for another hour, but I do not know how early your friends wake. I’m certain you don’t want to worry them.”

Weiren’s both mortified that they’d slept in the queen’s presence for multiple hours, and relieved that it hasn’t been days. They shake the sleep out of their head as they throw their discarded coat back on, scrambling around to get ready to leave. They still can’t believe what has occurred. After so long, they finally experienced the touch of another person, and that person just happened to be the Queen of Mevaden, who not only is a mysterious and stoic woman, but also secretly a vampire. 

It’s all too crazy. Weiren pats down their coat and tucks their hair back before finally deeming themself ready to go, and heads for the door.

“When do you depart Mevaden?” The queen asks, stopping Weiren in their tracks.

“Tomorrow morning, I think,” the paladin answers, remembering the group’s plan.

“I see,” the queen says, drawing out the words thoughtfully. “Then, tonight, I will return this to you.” The queen holds a hand, from which a golden cord dangles. Oh, right, Weiren’s hand flies up their head, where their hair is still down and out.  _ Tonight? _ At first, they’re taken aback, and then they understand the implication. A smile spreads on their heated face, though they try to keep it as formal as possible. The queen curls her fingers into a fist, taking hold over the hair tie, and deposits it in a drawer of her desk.

“I look forward to it,” they say, and then bow, “your majesty.”

Weiren peeks out the door and finds it mercifully devoid of anyone, which makes it fairly easy for them to make their way back to their room. The pre-dawn light filters into the halls, lighting up what had previously been foreboding and dark shadows just a few hours earlier.

When they turn the last corner, Weiren’s relieved to see none of their companions out and about, and they move with purpose towards their door.

The paladin pushes the door open, slightly, and sees the vague shape of Kainen in his bed, snoring softly. The sight gives them pause. The poor kid has been through a lot. He also suffered great injury from the fight with Varis. Weiren’d barely gotten a scratch, somehow. They aren’t certain how to act around him now. Sure, he’s no longer charmed by the bloodthirsty vampire, but the knowledge of the event is still there, hanging over them like a dark cloud.

Weiren ducks inside to grab their writing materials, and slinks back out to find the library, instead.

They’re too preoccupied with closing the door as quietly as possible to notice Lynne gazing at them through a partially-opened door across the hall, and they leave.

Although the furnishing and decor of this manor castle is as high-class as you can expect, the absence of bustling servants and nobles makes it more bearable, though they still feel out of place.

Weiren spends a good several hours in the library, continuing to chronicle some of the events that took place, though they aren’t certain it’s a good idea to include their last few meetings with the queen. Instead they describe the investigations that took place, their actions in finding out information, and the final battle. It’s not particularly for any purpose, but the prospect of writing in the quiet library is soothing. It gives their hands something to do while they just… process.

“Weiren?” A voice asks, and they look up, blinking. Lynne stands nearby, an inquisitive expression on her face.

“Oh, good morning, Lynne,” they say, and then stretch their back, not realizing how long they had hunched over the table, “sorry, I lost track of time.” The sky is already alight with the sun outside, they can see through a window.

“No worries,” the tiefling says, “but the others are thinking of discussing our plans for the future. Care to come along?”

“Sure, of course,” Weiren answers, closing their book and putting it away. They let out a sigh. Time to talk to all of their friends.

Lynne smiles and nods, and the two of them return to the rest of the Crystal Concord.

***

_ Shit _ .

Weiren’s back in the library again, and without Lynne. They frown deeply as they seat themselves in a corner, pulling their knees to their chest. Not even in a chair, but just the darkest little place they can find in this frequently empty room. 

Not too long ago they simply up and left a long conversation held between the members of the Crystal Concord. The party discussed at length their options of destinations, before finally settling on heading north to Kandor. After they agreed to meet up again later in the afternoon to prepare, the conversation took another turn. 

Lynne came forward with her past, and finally told everyone what she was running from. Another poor soul chased from Vangath, though slightly different from Weiren’s story. She’d been framed for a murder, and as a result, lost everything. There was nothing else for her to do but run. 

Weiren felt a sense of empathy, but the story left a bitter taste in their mouth. Only another example of how deep the corruption of Vangath runs. 

Of course, Kainen and Dormin were comforting and encouraging, thanking her for sharing her past and making claims to return alongside her to conquer the evils of Vangath. Weiren scoffed. 

Lynne joked that she’d feared Weiren and Dormin were both hunting her, as they were both paladins from Vangath. The party shared a chuckle, but Weiren looked away.

The paladin grabs onto their holy symbol, a relic from Vangath, and pulls it off of their neck. It’s one of the only items they have left from that place. They stare down at it, recalling the conversation.

“ _ I don’t think we should go back,” Weiren says, voice flat. Lynne looks taken aback. _

“ _ And why not?” _

_ Weiren folds their arms defensively, leaning away in their chair. _

“ _ No matter how we feel, the people in power will do what they want, regardless of consequences. Like what they did to us,” they answer, avoiding eye contact with any of the other three. They can feel the tension in the room, a tension that they caused. Weiren looks down at the ground. _

“ _ Weiren… you mean you have no intention of returning to set things right?” Kainen asks, his brows creased in concern. They keep looking away. _

“ _ My purpose lies elsewhere; I have no plans to go back,” they answer. They know that the poison runs deep. Too deep. Vangath is a lost cause. _

_ Lynne speaks of her family, her friends, and her desire to have them learn the truth: that she was and still is innocent. She and Kainen share a few words as Weiren gazes past them, looking at the wall, remembering their past. The cramped streets of their neighborhood, the temple of Celaste Moren, their own friends…  _

_ Weiren realizes that Kainen is talking to them. _

“ _ I understand why you’re reserved to return, Weiren,” he says, but Weiren can tell that he doesn’t. He’s thinking differently about it. He’s too naive. “We’ve encountered many different obstacles and overcame them. Vangath’s system may be flawed, but so are others. For example, Ashana-” _

_ Weiren shakes their head. “I’m not talking about how the country is run, Kainen. I can say with certainty that there are too many people in power who will use their influence for wrongdoing.” _

“ _ Well, yea. We saw that here in Mevaden, too, but we overcame that!” Kainen points out, but it does little to assure Weiren of anything. Mevaden’s issue, as far as they know, was one rogue vampire out to kill and take control. Vangath’s is that the entire upper class, at least those in control of the country, is rotten to the core. You can’t find and kill the suspect behind everything, because the enemy is everywhere, and everyone. It’s not as simple as slaying a vampire. “Maybe with enough influence, we can find those who are corrupt and put them in their place, and bring back the power of those who deserve it.” _

_ Weiren can’t remember if there was ever even a time that those who were in power ever deserved it. _

“ _ Maybe,” they say, if only to get Kainen to stop talking about things he doesn’t comprehend. But it doesn’t work. _

“ _ Weiren, I understand how you’re feeling right now. To be honest, there are times when I feel powerless, that no matter what decision I make, it’ll always be the wrong one. Back in the sewers, with the strange fog, I had to make a choice. The man who helped us… he died because I chose to save Lynne,” Kainen expresses. Weiren knows Kainen is speaking with good intentions, but he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, and he doesn’t know what Weiren is feeling. They  _ know  _ that Kainen feels responsible for the death of that innocent civilian, but they’re too caught up in their own feelings to temper their words. _

“ _ I’m not worried about making the wrong decision,” they say, cutting Kainen off, who falls silent, “I don’t want to go back to Vangath. I left, due to betrayal, and there’s no need for me to return.” _

_ The room goes quiet at that, and Weiren feels guilt upon sneaking a glance at Lynne’s expression. They can’t stay here. _

_ Weiren stands up, and leaves without a word. _

Weiren knows that they were too harsh, somehow. But the thought of returning to Vangath is too painful. They can’t. 

Most of all, they feel guilty for turning Lynne’s moment into something sour. It was the first time Lynne really opened up to the party, with such a personal story too. If people hadn’t thrown around the idea of going back to that hellhole of a country, it would have been fine. Maybe. 

Weiren tilts the symbol in their hand, watching as the light reflects off of the metallic sun. Although the priests may be corrupt, at least Celaste Moren is still just. All they have to do is follow the oath. Fostering the light and life of those around you, protecting it as best you can, but also taking care of your  _ own  _ light. Above all though, is that they should strive to  _ be  _ the light, to be a source of hope for others. Weiren thinks they have the first part down pretty good but the second half is a little harder to work with. Maybe Queen Vicouryn was right, when she talked of self-confidence. Certainly if they’re stronger-willed and more confident, they’ll be a lot better at being the light. They  _ want  _ to be a symbol a hope, but it’s so hard.

“So this is where you were hiding. You may want to switch it up every so often, it was a little too easy to find you.”

Weiren drops the pendant in surprise at the sound of Lynne’s voice. It falls, hitting the carpeted ground with an audible thud. Oh, gods. How did she find them? Before they can fully react, Lynne’s already reached down and picked it back up, holding it out towards them.

“Oh, Lynne, um… hi… again.” They say, trailing off. Weiren looks over Lynne’s shoulder, feeling a little too ashamed to look her in the eye.

“Apologies if I startled you,” Lynne offers, placing the necklace in Weiren’s hand. They take it quietly and loop it back around their neck.  _ Sorry, Celaste Moren _ .

“No worries,” they say, biting their lip, “Thanks.” There’s a pause, and they shift their weight from left to right nervously, “Listen, um, I’m... sorry for how the conversation went back there. I didn’t mean to dismiss your story like that. It was very brave of you to share, but I hope you can understand my own hesitation about returning to Vangath. I’m from there, too.”

“It’s a sensitive topic, I understand,” Lynne returns, “That’s why it took me so long to share that story with the three of you. In truth I have my own reservations, but I have to, for the sake of my family.”

Weiren smiles sadly, looking down. “I think that’s very admirable of you, Lynne.” 

Family...

They wonder what it must be like to have that. What is it like to have a mother and a father who love you? What is it like to have a sibling or two, fighting and playing and looking out for each other?

Lynne is fortunate to have her family.

The bard nods, accepting the difference between their resolutions, and moves on. “Say, I don’t think I’ve seen you wear your hair down like that before.”

“Wha- oh, this?” Weiren’s hand moves up to touch their hair, recalling that the cord they use to tie it up is still in the possession of Queen Vicouryn. It’s been strange getting used to it. In a way, it feels a little lighter, but in others, it’s uncomfortable. It’s unfamiliar. “Yes, I, uh, felt like trying something new… and it’s been pretty cold around here…” Their words fade away, and Weiren gulps. It sounds plausible though, they think. Probably.

“It’s a nice look on you,” Lynne compliments, “I was wondering if you were in too much of a rush to tie it up this morning. Kainen said that he didn’t see you at all after the ceremony, so I was afraid that you might have had some trouble sleeping last night, although you don’t actually sleep do you?” 

Weiren sweats, and prays that there isn’t any nervous heat coming to their cheeks. “I uh, yes, you’re right. After the ceremony and everything I needed some fresh air, to, you know, get away from all-” Weiren gestures at the fine carpets and elegant carved tables, “-this. This whole place is just too much for me. I don’t really belong here.” Well, it wasn’t entirely false. Sort of. “Kainen was asleep when I got back, and he was still sleeping when I awoke.” Weiren briefly recalls how they’d intentionally hidden in an alcove to avoid bumping into the scion on their way to meet the queen. It’s all a bit of a mess.

“Fresh air? Wasn’t it raining last night? It was storming for hours.” Lynne cocks her head as she glances at Weiren. “Ah, well I suppose the rain can be pleasant at times. To each their own, and all that. Anyway,” she reaches out to pat Weiren on the shoulder, “I came by to let you know that Kainen secured another private audience with the queen, for both himself and for you, since we know you’re looking for more information about the ley lines, and we thought the queen might know more.”

Weiren sighs in relief as Lynne changes the subject, but they feel a little more guilt at their treatment of Kainen, especially now that he’s done them a favor. Also, oh gods, an audience with the queen, and  _ also  _ Kainen is there. They aren’t sure what to expect.

“Oh, that’s good to hear. I should thank him for that.” 

“It’ll be later tonight, at the eighth hour, just so you know,” she adds, and Weiren nods, making a mental note.

Suddenly, Lynne blinks, and her posture changes.

“Isn’t this what you were wearing last night? I’d thought you didn’t really like these kinds of clothes. Didn’t expect they’d be comfortable enough to sleep in,” she observes, leaning in just a little bit to make a show of examining their coat. Weiren steps back by reflex, glancing down at their attire. It’s the same clothes that Queen Vicouryn had complimented them in. Uh oh.

Weiren isn’t always the best around people, but they are intuitive enough to realize that Lynne is searching for something in their words. Knowing that, however, doesn’t actually help them hide anything.

“I, uh, didn’t even notice, haha,” they laugh awkwardly, “how silly of me.”

“They must have gotten soaked,” Lynne comments innocently, “after your walk, that is.” Weiren sweats a little more, and Lynne fixes them with a stare. Welp.

“Uhhh… yup…” they answer weakly, but they can tell Lynne’s practically got them trapped. The tiefling raises an eyebrow, and Weiren looks away even more. Lynne sighs.

“Listen… I don’t mean to pry, Weiren, but I’m worried about you. Last night you seemed really down, and your… behavior this morning was concerning. Is something bothering you?” she asks, and Weiren sighs, too, focusing their gaze on the bookshelf beside them..

“Well, to be honest, it’s been hard to be around the other two, after knowing about… you know,” they confess, which is actually still very true, even if it isn’t quite what they’re really occupied with. “I’ve kind of been avoiding being around them.”

“Oh, I see,” Lynne says softly, and Weiren can tell that she’s still dealing with the emotions around that as well. It’s hard, especially for both of them, forced from Vangath due to deceit and lies and betrayal, to know that both Kainen and Dormin were under Varis’ control. “I can understand that. But you know, avoiding them won’t do anything. Maybe they were controlled, but you saved them from that. I’ve spent a long time running away from trust, and it hasn’t done me that much good. It’s… important to trust in your allies. Please know that we’re here for you.”

Oh, no. That was so incredibly earnest that now Weiren feels bad about what they’ve done.

“I… understand. I’m sure with some time I’ll be alright with it all again. The last few days have just been… so much. Thank you, Lynne,” Weiren bows their head slightly, and rises to see a small smile on Lynne’s face. 

“Anytime, Weiren. So then, tell me about your walk last night. Sounds like it was fun.” she tilts her head to the other side, still with that nice smile, and Weiren feels heat flare back up in their cheeks. Damn it. She’s devious.

“Ha-haha, yea, it was fun,” Weiren laughs weakly, “Speaking of which, walking is good for you, why don’t we go on one right now?” Weiren makes a desperate expression at Lynne, gesturing for her to come with them. If Weiren is going to say anything, it absolutely cannot be within the walls of the manor castle. Who knows how many eyes and ears are lurking? Queen Vicouryn would obliterate them on the spot if word got out of what they did. Lynne gives them an inquisitive look as Weiren nervously ushers her out of the library.

It’s when Weiren can no longer see the manor castle that they finally feel like they might be safe. Out of the noble district and into the common one, where the multi-story shop buildings obscure the view just enough to hide the offending building. But now they just need to find an actual place to talk, and they aren’t sure if restaurants are actually safe.

“Did we really need to come this far just to talk?” Lynne asks, arms folded as Weiren scans the street.

“We’re on a nice walk for exercise,” Weiren replies, squinting. There, down at the next corner, looks to be a relatively decent tea shop without too many people, but enough so that they wouldn’t be the only ones. Oh gods, Weiren hasn’t even figured out how much they’re gonna say yet. But it’s clear Lynne knows something’s up, and to be honest, Weiren’s terrified of Lynne’s power with words, and she’ll probably drag the truth out of them kicking and screaming somehow if they don’t give in. Maybe. They’ve witnessed enough charms and commands, and frankly, explosions to  _ not  _ be afraid. 

“Let’s go there,” Weiren says, pointing out the modest shop, and gestures for Lynne to follow. Like the rest of the city, there’s a bit of the elegant gothic style to it. It’s largely made of stone, but there are some painted wooden supports and frames to add a bit of color.

The door creaks as they enter the building. It’s about what they expected on the inside, with a cobbled floor and plain tables. There’s several other customers, thankfully, but it’s fairly quiet with just a bit of low chatter. Weiren and Lynne find a table tucked away into a back corner, made partially private by the wooden columns spaced around the area. People are sitting spread out enough that they shouldn’t be heard.

“This should be an okay place,” Weiren says, feeling a slight amount of relief. They’re also putting together ideas in their head, and they think they can pull off a kind of story that won’t be a total lie, but possibly be enough for Lynne. Perhaps.

“I must say, Weiren, I’m so intrigued to hear what you have to say, if we must go so far to talk about it. Have you perhaps found a secret lover?” Lynne asks, a slight smirk on her face, and Weiren pales, immediately at a loss for words. “Please, I was just joking,” Lynne backtracks at Weiren’s expression, waving her hands, “unless... I was right, perhaps?” 

Lynne doesn’t know the truth. They can do this. Weiren schools their face, breathing deeply.

“No, sorry, that just caught me off guard,” they say, trying to force themself to calm down. Lynne’s guess isn’t true. That’s not what Weiren would even call whatever they were doing with the queen. It’s just... a business arrangement. Lynne leans back in her chair, watching them curiously, but they’re interrupted by a waiter coming by to take their orders. Weiren asks for the house special green tea, hoping it’ll help them in keeping calm. Lynne orders a cup of darjeeling, and the waiter nods, and then leaves.

Okay. Time to do this.

“Last night, I had an audience. You know, after the ritual and… after Kainen,” Weiren begins, choosing their words carefully, and making expressly sure to not say the actual queen’s name aloud. Lynne’s eyebrows rise ever-so-slightly.

“For what purpose?” she inquires, leaning on one of her hands. 

Weiren reaches up a hand and taps on the side of their neck. “Well, remember when I, uh, did this?” 

Lynne’s eyes grow wide.

“Weiren! You didn’t- not again?”

Oh, shit, that’s a misunderstanding already. Well, wait, technically it isn’t.  _ Shit _ . 

Weiren shakes their head, rapidly. Augh, it’s already going so wrong.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. She, uh, wanted to compensate me for that. Since it was a, uh, unnecessary action on my part that made the mission more dangerous. That’s all,” Weiren says, praying it sounds convincing enough.

“More compensation? After she already gave us so much?” Lynne frowns in thought. “That seems… uncharacteristically generous of her. What did she offer?”

“Oh uh, just the usual, you know, like, gold… and items… and stuff,” Weiren says quietly. They can tell it’s kind of falling apart. Normally the biggest lie they deal with telling is just what their name actually is, and where they come from.

Lynne stares at them. Weiren gulps.

“Anyway, I didn’t accept the offer. I don’t really like to get rewarded for doing what should be done, you know. We already got so much.” Yep, that’s it, just finish it off. 

The two fall silent for a little bit, Lynne appearing to be thinking about what they said. The server comes back with the requested tea, and Weiren stares down into the cup, watching the steam rise. Oh, gods. Please. They take a sip to avoid saying more, even though the drink is too hot on their tongue. Ouch. 

“I wouldn’t have expected that from  _ her _ ,” Lynne breaks the silence, and Weiren briefly freezes, “but she  _ is  _ quite the mystery. I’m never really sure what goes on in her mind.” The bard takes a sip of her tea in an elegant manner, still with a thoughtful expression on her face, but Weiren knows Lynne’s probably come to her own conclusions.

It’s hopeless. Weiren’s pretty certain that they both know they aren’t saying everything, but they don’t know if they even can tell Lynne anything more. The queen certainly won’t want anyone to know, and Weiren can’t imagine any good coming of people finding out. 

The quiet is too thick, weighing upon them like a heavy curtain. Lynne sets the teacup back down onto the table.

“Weiren, I want to reiterate that I am worried for you. Your business is your own, certainly, but I want to be sure that you aren’t doing anything dangerous, especially after what we’ve gone through in this city,” she finally says. “But, if you are doing something dangerous… something that could threaten you, or us… I would like to know.”

Weiren exhales, slowly. It doesn’t seem like Lynne intends to force the truth out of them, which is good.

“I’m not doing anything dangerous,” Weiren says. They think so, at least. Sure, there’s some sort of agreement between them and an ancient vampire queen, but like, it’s… chill? 

“You should be careful, especially if it involves  _ her. _ ” Lynne stresses the pronoun again, indicating her own disdain for the queen, “though I would have thought you would have preferred someone… nicer?”

“Ah, no, listen, Lynne,” Weiren protests, “it’s  _ not  _ what you think!” A flush comes across their face, and Lynne cocks her head again. “Seriously, it’s nothing like that. I don’t- I don’t really do that kind of thing. You know how it is. We’re always busy. There’s no time for anything like that.” Weiren takes a second to breathe again. 

A few drops of tea hit the table, and Weiren realizes Lynne’s spilled some during a sip.

“Pardon me, it’s a little hot,” she says, “but yes, I suppose you’re right.” There’s a complicated expression on her face as she presses a napkin to the spill. Weiren assumes she’s thinking of other possible reasons for their meetings with the queen, and doesn’t notice the way Lynne briefly draws her eyebrows together.

“Not to mention the difference in status. Look, I… I simply had an agreement with her. Like business. I was able to help her with something, and she was able to help me. I can’t tell you what, but I promise there’s nothing dangerous about it,” Weiren repeats, hoping that it’s enough. It’s the truth, as far as they know. Lynne taps her fingers idly on the table.

“I won’t lie, you’ve piqued my curiosity,” Lynne says, her nails quiet but rhythmic, “But, as you wish, I won’t pry any further. Perhaps sometime in the future you could entertain me with the story?” 

“Haha, maybe,” Weiren laughs.  _ Nope, absolutely not. _ “Please, don’t tell the other two. I have no idea how they’d react, but it definitely won’t be good. They’ll misunderstand even more than you.”

“Of course,” Lynne agrees, “those two would hear the first three words and then run wild. My lips are sealed. But,” she pauses, “please, let me know if anything leads to trouble.”

That seems like a fair deal, though Weiren’s pretty certain there’s no trouble to be had.

***

“I see you’ve returned, Kainen, scion of Ashana,” Queen Vicouryn says, head leaned to one side as she regards both Kainen and Weiren, “Consider this a unique honor, to give you another chance to ask me something when you’ve already proven that you can be quite adept at wasting my time.”

Ouch. Weiren sneaks a glance at their friend. It’s a forceful reminder of the queen’s personality beyond the dark study. Perhaps capable of being gentle, but far more accustomed to condescension. Weiren presses their lips together and looks away. The queen turns her gaze over to Weiren briefly, and they wonder if she makes note of the fact that Weiren’s tied their hair back up again, although this time with cheap twine. Knowing that the simple change in hairstyle was enough to make Lynne suspicious, Weiren’s taking precautions to avoid surprise interrogations from the other two.

“When I went back to ask you earlier, you called me out for making a short in the dark. You’re right, I was in the dark and I didn’t know what exactly I was looking for. I’m still in the dark now, but I have an idea of where to start,” Kainen says, and Weiren mentally sighs in relief. He seems to be okay. “Can you tell me what exactly is the purpose of the markers?”

The queen answers Kainen’s inquiries with an impressive knowledge befitting one who has lived so long, but so many of her words are cold and uncaring of possible insult. She reveals that the markers, one of which the party has traversed through, is from before even her time. Though they were crafted by sentient people, whatever purpose they once served is now lost to time. 

Kainen shifts the conversation to scions, asking about how these markers might connect to them and the nation of Ashana. Surprisingly, she claims that history says Ashana was almost the very cause of their own ruin, though the stories aren’t clear. Its location as well is intriguing: high up in the mountains at the very center of Fadan.

“I have one final question, if that’s alright,” Kainen says, and then looks briefly at Weiren, “have you ever heard of the name Ana Arkova? And do you know what someone in the position of power that she has would want from the scions?”

The queen shifts her weight in her throne, leaning slightly more to one side. “I have only heard the name very recently. The new empress of Brauven. She seems to be… an ambitious child,” she says, and Weiren frowns. That ambitious child laid siege to the city of Gishal, taking many lives including their queen, and the Crystal Concord barely escaped with their lives on a stolen airship. Not too long after that, she forced the ship to crash remotely via some kind of strange magic. Queen Vicouryn does hold tremendous strength, but she doesn't know enough about the empress. “From my point of view, it looks like she’s bitten off more than she can chew, but Brauven has its airships, and possibly a vendetta. Maybe they just made the wrong move, but I’ll make sure that she never harms Mevaden.”

It’s scary, but also somehow reassuring to know that Doluum has this queen on their side.

“Do you know what she might want with the scions?” Kainen repeats, and the queen sighs.

“I do not. I can tell you that I have no interest in you or your brethren. The scions are an interesting topic, maybe for study, but I have more important things to manage than the curios of a broken nation,” The queen returns, clearly uncaring of the bluntness of her words. Kainen’s entire home was invaded by Brauven merely months ago, or was it just a few weeks? The Crystal Concord led half of the refugees to safety, but there are still more out there. Weiren sends the queen a concerned and pleading look, praying for her to try to be a little nicer to the scion. He’s lost much. Unfortunately, the queen’s gaze is trained on their friend.

Kainen narrows his eyes in response, silent, and takes a step back, leaving the audience clear for Weiren. They clear their throat and step forward. May as well get right to the point.

“What do you know of the ley lines?” They ask, eyes downcast. This Queen Vicouryn, seated upon a throne and gazing down at them is harder to look directly at, for some reason. She’s intimidating, moreso than Weiren has gotten accustomed too. It’s a reminder that the queen, no matter how colored Weiren’s perception is, is not what one would call a nice person. Weiren knows she’s not nice, but it’s still jarring after waking up this morning in her arms. The memory sends heat to their face, but hopefully it’s not noticeable.

“A surprisingly trivial question, isn’t it?” The queen begins, folding her hands. “It is not something I find much interest in. In case you haven’t noticed, my focus is on my kingdon. Rather than stare down into the earth, I am looking forward to the future. The energy that lies in the soil is not one I have the luxury of access to. As you might know, my power lies on a very different spectrum.”

That they do. They haven’t witnessed much of her magic, but they can recall the thick, black blood oozing out of Marie Neval’s body. Despite the assassination attempt, the queen was not defenseless and took Marie down with some form of terrible necrotic magic, which is a far cry from the living energy of the world. The ley lines enrich the earth, but Vicouryn seems to have the ability to wither people away.

“More specifically,” Weiren attempts, “something has been happening to them recently, causing them to shift and change. I was wondering if you might know who or what may be causing it, or if there may be some lineage that has that kind of power.” Surely someone of her time has something they can use. Some kind of a lead to help them learn more.

“I do not know of any such lineage. From what I have seen, though, the ley lines do occasionally shift and change with time, but I have not been one to observe them very carefully. If there have been any recent unusual changes, I am not the one to ask. The only people I know would be the ones who practice in a similar vein of magic, or those who hold ancient history in their grasp. Perhaps the Isles of Val’ Kranz, perhaps the scholars of Kandor, or perhaps the sages of the Sand Cities, though it has been quite some time since the sages have visited.” The queen taps the armrest of her throne thoughtfully, but with a sense of boredom in her expression. Three different possible routes to take. “But I tire of such uninteresting topics,” she says, turning her gaze then to Weiren, who immediately sucks in a breath and holds their posture. They glance at Kainen, but he’s looking away. Something inside of them sinks at that, knowing there’s still a distance between the two after their outburst.

“If that is all, you must know I am very busy,” the queen says, “I have a trip to go on, after all, something which requires a lot of preparation for someone like me.” She’s dismissing them now, Weiren knows. They wonder when they are supposed to return. Does she remember that they are to meet again, or has she forgotten? It’s the last night before they leave Mevaden. Does she still even want to meet, or has her interest with them faded away?

“Thank you for your time, your majesty,” Weiren says, bowing low. Nahlia makes to lead the two of them away, but Weiren glances over their shoulder as they leave, gently stressing the healing wound on their shoulder. The queen isn’t paying attention at first, but it’s almost as if she reacts to their gaze, head turning to briefly lock eyes with them. As always, they’re cold and dark, and her expression is unreadable. A second later, and Weiren breaks the gaze, turning back to the doors to leave.


	6. Last Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiren shares a final meeting with Queen Vicouryn before they must leave Mevaden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u ever just write something that makes u pleading emoji

Although the queen is not expressly  _ hostile,  _ per se, toward the Crystal Concord, Weiren can’t help but feel a little guilty when she trivializes the issues of her friends, especially Kainen’s. The boy literally died earlier in their travels together, although with the favor of Cecilia Rundahl, daughter of the king of Kohson, he was brought back. Weiren’s been trying to make up for failing to protect him since then. And, honestly, out of the entire party, Kainen is probably the most important, realistically speaking. A scion of Ashana, though the nation is in pieces now, and greatly sought after by the Brauven Empress Ana Arkova herself. 

They rub absently at their neck as it twinges, trying to comprehend the actions of the vampire queen. Despite that, they aren’t sure they’re really in a position to point such things out to her. Perhaps their agreement has led to more, but beyond it all, she is still a queen, and Weiren just an outsider. The power imbalance is what makes this situation so precarious. How much are they allowed to do? What will be the breaking point that ruins this delicate arrangement for good? At most, they asked her to stop talking about confidence or whatever, and thankfully it didn’t lead to anything bad.

Is it even worth it to point out such a thing, when the party is leaving Mevaden so soon? But it feels selfish to not, as if they’re prioritizing their own desires over respect for Kainen. Weiren puts their head in their hand, and sighs. They wonder what time it is, yet. It’s been several hours since the audience with the queen. After Kainen left first, Nahlia quietly told them that she would come by later when it was time for their last meeting. Past midnight, she said, but Weiren isn’t even sure when that was going to come. 

Weiren wonders how much Nahlia knows. They wonder if her work helping the queen gives her any time to even sleep, considering the vampiric and elven nature of her queen. She’s always so busy, though it seems she’s very accustomed to such a lifestyle.

Hopefully late enough that Kainen is already asleep, Weiren opens the door as quietly as possible. They’ve kind of been loitering in a myriad of places, avoiding the scion since it seems he’s also avoiding them. Thankfully, it’s very quiet and Kainen appears to be deep asleep. Weiren steps gingerly across the floor to their bed and belongings, and sifts through their meager assortment of clothes. Due to the multi-day nature of the formal Nights of Rebirth, Weiren has more than just one set of fine clothes, some fancier than others. They grab the most comfortable of the three to change into. Though still in the dark blacks and grays of Mevaden, there are a few deep green accents that feel just a little bit more like Weiren, and the collar isn’t nearly so stifling as the other one. There’s a couple layers to these clothes, with a light gray tunic as the undermost layer and a long, darker gray vest of some sort on top. Usually, there’s also a thick coat to go on top of it all, embellished even further, but Weiren forsakes it for tonight. They’ll probably just remove it, anyway.

Satisfied with the new wardrobe, Weiren tucks everything back away and pulls the twine from their hair again, wincing as a few strands catch, but they successfully let it all back down again. Even just the sensation of it falling down around their shoulders reminds them of Queen Vicouryn and what occurred the previous night, prompting a small smile to form on their face.

Weiren exits the room, and nearly jumps when face-to-face with Nahlia, who has a hand raised to knock on the door, and a small candle in the other.

“Oh, Nahlia! Pardon me,” Weiren exclaims in a hushed whisper, hurrying to close the door behind them. The attendant is also startled by the coincidental meeting, but she keeps calm.

“Good evening, Weiren,” she says, allowing Weiren to take the time to turn the knob and minimize the sound of the closing door, “I hope you are well.”

“Yes, I’m alright, how about you?” Weiren returns sheepishly as the two of them begin to walk away.

“Fine, as well. The queen has been in high spirits since the Blood Vow, thanks to you and your friends, which has been wonderful,” Nahlia answers, “It does me well to see her in such a state.” Weiren makes a doubtful expression from behind her. The queen was particularly savage during the private audience she’d held with Kainen and Weiren. Nahlia glances back at Weiren. “Although, I think you, personally, have played quite a large part in lifting her mood.”

Weiren’s eyes widen and they nearly stop moving in surprise, but continue walking.

“Me?” they ask incredulously. That can’t be right. Nahlia nods in reply.

“The queen is a very busy woman, and she doesn’t really have much time to spend aside from working or business. I think it’s been refreshing for her to… let’s say,  _ partake _ in leisure.” There’s a knowing tone in her voice, and Weiren is actually terrified of whether she really knows what’s going on. But does spending time with Weiren actually make the queen… happy? That sounds like a stretch. The two are merely trading touch for touch as it is mutually beneficial.

But doesn’t Weiren feel happiness over the arrangement? Were they not feeling a little giddy when the queen kept their golden cord as an agreement to meet them again? Why would it be different for the queen?

Weiren doesn’t know how they feel about people experiencing positive emotion towards them. Are they not merely a coward who ran from Vangath at the sign of trouble? They didn’t even try to make things right. 

_ Be the light _ .

Damn it, they really are having trouble fulfilling the complete oath. Vicouryn was right. Weiren can’t see themself like that. It’s just… not possible. 

Perhaps Vicouryn is feeling positive from their interactions because it’s a nice distraction from her work, or some kind of stress relief. Weiren doesn’t know.

“That’s… good… to hear,” Weiren says, slowly and doubtfully. “It’s hard for me to tell. She was very… um, blunt, during the audience earlier today, with Kainen. Is she always so…” Weiren struggles to find the right word, not wanting to insult the queen to her highest attendant, “direct?” Eek, not sure if that was the right one.

“Direct is one way to put it,” Nahlia says, laughing lightly. Phew. “It’s like I said. Her majesty has limited time, and she is focused on her kingdom and her people. She does not care much for the affairs of those who are irrelevant. But of Mevaden, she is fiercely protective.”

Weiren supposes that sounds alright, but the queen’s words are practically sharper than her fangs. They can’t help but wonder if she’s capable of dealing some kind of psychic assault with how savage her comments have been. 

“I see,” they say in response, and the conversation falls away until they reach the study once more.

“The queen will be here soon, but you are free to wait inside. It should not be long,” Nahlia says, gesturing towards the doors. 

“Oh, okay.” Weiren isn’t expecting the study to be empty, but they take in stride. “I’ll, uh, head on inside then. Have a good night, Nahlia.”

The attendant dips her head and smiles, returning the goodbye, and leaves.

This time, Weiren alone takes a hold of the handle, and enters the study by themself. It’s very dark, but the waning moon is still only a few days from its peak, and so it is still large and bright. The light falls upon a few papers on the desk, but Weiren holds back the urge to take a look. Snooping around in the study will surely end poorly for them. 

Weiren shuts the door behind them, and ventures further into the room. It looks the same as always, though the queen must have had the window repaired somehow, as it is void of any cracks. The heavy curtains are pulled aside, though Weiren wonders if they must be drawn together when the sun is out, or if the queen even works during the hours of daylight. There’s still so much they don’t know about her.

The paladin makes their way to the seats by the fireplace, which are still arranged in the same way as the prior night, wait, hold on. Weiren squints into the darkness. There’s… one of the cushioned benches has been replaced, or at least moved elsewhere. Instead, there’s what looks to be a fairly new and well-crafted fusion of a bed with a wide armchair. Like a bench that only has half of the back support on one side, leaving the other half supportless. Weiren feels like they’ve seen some of these before, like in the room the group rented at the Fireside Flower, or the palaces of the other kings. It’s one of the fancier pieces of furniture, they can deduce. A chaise lounge?

Weiren approaches. The base is a carved, dark wood bordering on black, and it’s upholstered with a burgundy red. There’s a few small cushions at the end, where they assume a person is supposed to sit, and then prop their legs up on the rest of the length. It looks dangerously comfortable. They test the give of the padded seat with a hand, and find it soft and springy. Weiren bites their lip. Is it okay to try sitting in it? It’s probably specifically for the queen, not them, though. Maybe a celebratory upgrade for after the Blood Vow.

They make sure not to entertain the idea that it’s actually for both of them. No way.

Weiren steps away from the fancy chair and instead sits down on the familiar bench across from it, feet firmly planted on the ground, with their hands resting on their knees. It’s kind of a shame that this will be their last night in Mevaden. Although they aren’t a fan of all the finery and elegance, the strange and mysterious vampire queen is somehow comforting to them. There will no longer be any more short and secret meetings after the sun rises. Once this is over, they’ll be back on the road, which will be comfortably familiar, but they’ll miss the touch of another person: the touch of Queen Vicouryn. Will she come to this final meeting?

Weiren’s lost in their thoughts when arms come down around their shoulders and wrap around their chest. They stiffen at first, not expecting the sudden contact, and they can feel hair brushing across their shoulder as a cold form presses across their back and neck. She came so close, and so quickly.

“So you’ve arrived,” a voice says softly beside their ear, gusting cold breath against their flesh and sending goosebumps raising across their arms. Weiren looks down at their hands, taking in a breath, and bravely reaches up to place one on top of the queen’s. If she is going to be so forward, then maybe they can, too. “I was a little worried I had frightened you away.”

“I’m here,” Weiren returns, feeling the familiar chilled temperature of the queen’s skin beneath their fingers. It’s comforting to them. A small part of their head kept repeating that she wouldn’t come, but she did. They sigh, in relief. “Of course not.”

They wonder how she actually views them, beyond a naive paladin and a distraction from her duties, or does she even see anything past that?

Weiren tries to be calm, they really do, but their natural instinct is still to tense up at first, slowly relaxing after they become accommodated to the contact. It’s still scary, but it feels so nice.

“Hmm,” the queen hums gently, tilting her head slightly to lean against Weiren’s for just a moment, making them gasp quietly before pulling away. She sounds a little… pleased? She walks around from behind the seat toward the chaise lounge, running her hand along the backside of the wooden frame. From the side, she steps out of a pair of dark slippers and then sits down, regally, eyes pointedly looking at Weiren across the gap between them. She’s wearing another one of her many dark gowns, although it’s difficult to see the details in the dim light. This one has shorter sleeves that bare her arms, though she has a capelet of some kind covering her shoulders. It seems to be one of her simpler dresses, perhaps specifically for this meeting?

The vampire then pats the space next to her, and nods toward them. “Come,” she says, a single word invitation. 

O- _ oh. _

The chaise lounge is for them, too? Weiren steels themself and stands up to follow suit, crossing the space between them and pulling off their own shoes, leaving them on the side. They sit down, stiffly beside her, but they leave a bit of a gap between them, uncertain of how close to get so soon. The queen reaches a hand out to gently sweep Weiren’s hair over a shoulder and to the side, making them sigh softly. She taps gently on the other side of their now more exposed neck, where the bite is healing.

“How is this doing?” She inquires. 

“Oh, uh, fine, I think. It’s getting better,” Weiren answers, though they haven’t thought to check it that day. But it doesn’t hurt or anything, although it may scar. And hopefully by now they've replenished most of the blood that they lost. “Should be all healed in a few days, I think.”

The queen’s whole hand comes to rest on their shoulder, fingers slightly splayed. 

“I would like to see,” she says, each digit beginning to tap in a wavelike pattern. Weiren feels their heartbeat quicken. Her tone isn’t quite one of a request, but also not quite a full command. Or is it? Thankfully the tunic they’re wearing has a low collar, and they’re able to hook a thumb into the fabric and pull it aside enough to reveal where the bite is. They turn to the side to more easily display it.

“How… does it look?” they ask nervously. The queen tilts her head to get a better angle, and Weiren swears there’s a hint of satisfaction in her face.

“You are correct; it is healing. How…  _ unfortunate _ that it may leave behind a scar.” Queen Vicouryn stresses the word in such a way that makes them think otherwise, and they’re not sure what to make of the idea that she’s pleased that she’s left a lasting mark. It makes her even more of a predator, they feel. But on the other hand… it also feels like perhaps she views Weiren as more than just a distraction from her day-to-day duties. No, that can’t be right. 

“That’s fine,” Weiren says, “I have… a lot of scars, anyway.” That seems like a good response that can match well with whichever meaning Vicouryn actually intends. The queen’s other hand comes forward to their front, tracing a shape on their skin around the bite. Weiren shivers, just a little bit, still tugging at the collar to allow the queen access. She runs her fingers over the area, but then they stop. She squints.

“What’s this?” The fingers move forward, cresting over to the back of their shoulder. “A scar born of lightning?” Weiren knows what she’s talking about. The queen is merely seeing the tail end of what’s definitely their most striking scar yet.

“Oh, yes…” Weiren trails off, recalling the incident. Brutally struck in the back by a dark flail sparking with energy, they nearly died that day. The same flail they now wield as their own. The queen follows the path of the scar with her hand, but she’s blocked by the vest and tunic. “An elemental of storm and frost. I was foolish. It’s thanks to Kainen I even survived.”

The queen raises an eyebrow. 

“A near-fatal wound, then?” She sounds curious, though most people probably wouldn’t notice the slight change in intonation. Weiren wonders if the queen bears many scars, or if the vampiric power of healing can repair flesh without leaving a mark. They nod in response. “I am intrigued; I must confess that I’m wondering what such a scar may look like. It seems you are fortunate that you escaped with it as opposed to losing your life.”

Weiren may have their lack of experience and occasional trouble with talking to people, but even they can tell what the queen is asking for, and it’s a lot. But so far, the queen hasn’t given any judgement. Only acknowledgement and a gentle hand. They’ve already practically bared their soul to her, and then some. They suppose showing a little more skin is practically nothing on top of it all. They stare back at the queen, eyes slightly wide, and she merely holds their gaze.

The paladin breathes out, slowly, closing their eyes, and begins to undo the few buttons on the dark vest. Part way through they realize their hands are shaking. Oh, no. 

“Weiren,” the queen says, halting them in their tracks, “it is not necessary to do anything you are uncomfortable with. Remember, this arrangement is for your benefit.”

That’s reassuring to hear. Weiren’s flip flopping between thinking the queen is just playing around with them or not; knowing she doesn’t want to force them to do anything is relieving.

“I know.” Weiren’s faintly aware of that, but even more than that they’re aware of the queen’s look. They’re pretty sure she wants to see, at the very least the devastating scar. The queen falls quiet and just watches as Weiren removes the vest. Their hands tremble still due to anxiety, but they manage to get it done.

To be fair, they aren’t the biggest fan of multiple layers of clothing, and the vest is just restricting in general. Down to just the tunic, which also has its own series of buttons. The paladin turns in their spot, putting their back towards the queen. They make sure their hair is still out of the way, safely pulled to hang in front. A few more fastenings to open up the collar, and Weiren shrugs the shoulders of the tunic off and down, but still partly on, leaving just the top of their back out. That’s as far as they’re willing to go. They don’t know if they’re capable of anything more.

Loosening the shirt gives Queen Vicouryn a better picture of the scar. Like roots branching off trees, the scar originates on Weiren’s upper back, towards the left, and spreads out in different directions. First there is the mark of just a brutal and crushing flail swing, and then the scars of lightning pulsing through their body. Underneath and marred by the ruined skin lies an expansive tattoo. Weiren guesses the queen can only see the sun symbol in the center of their upper back, and the tops of two white wings spreading across their shoulder blades. Further down, and she would be able to see the source of the wings: a pegasus, representative of their deity, Celaste Moren. The god of light and life, of time and renewal, and of peace. It’s a very telling tattoo, but it’s been damaged by their dangerous ventures. The marks left by lightning cross through the sun in a foreboding manner, but there’s not much to be done about it. They wonder what she must think of their whole dedication to the deity of life, as an undead vampire. Does she judge them?

Weiren flinches slightly when the queen reaches out to touch the center of the scar. The nerves are damaged, so it’s a bit of a strange feeling, but the vampire merely follows the pattern of the scar across their upper back, passing through the sun. She’s dragging a fingernail across, ever so slightly, not to cause pain but just enough to add a bit more sensation. Weiren keeps as still as possible, arms crossing to keep their front protected. They can’t even imagine how many other scars there must be; Weiren’s fought so many times that it’s natural to get new ones every week.

“I see you are correct; you bear many scars. There’s much of your history chronicled here,” the queen comments, though not saying anything at all about the tattoos. Her hands move around, brushing against what must be other scars they aren’t as aware of. 

Weiren simply inclines their head in response, occupying their hands with holding their hair at their front. Somehow the queen has found yet another touch that feels so incredibly intimate that they’re just spiraling away. 

“Interesting,” she finally says, “it must have been quite a battle. I suppose the scion may be stronger than I initially thought.” As she says this, her hands trail down the sides of Weiren’s exposed shoulders and find the opened collar of their tunic. At first, Weiren imagines the queen pulling it further off and flushes red. Slowly, gently, she instead pulls the fabric back up their arms, returning the shirt to its previous coverage, where Weiren re-fastens at least the bottom few buttons, leaving the top two still open. Thank the gods. “I appreciate your willingness to show such a scar.”

Phew.

“What about you? Do you have any?” Weiren inquires, turning back to the queen. 

“Not many. My nature allows for rapid healing, and consequently even scars fade away quickly, However, I believe that this has not yet disappeared.” The queen reaches up to the modest neckline of her gown, and pulls it down to reveal the top of her chest, where the skin, though closed, is still trying to fully repair itself. Weiren gets redder by instinct, but blinks and looks closer.

One of the wounds left by those dangerous arrows of vampire-slaying. It’s certainly a miracle she survived that assassination attempt; Marie Neval was well-prepared. Then there must be another scar of a similar kind a little lower down, near the bottom of her ribcage.

The paladin places a soft touch on the wound, mirroring what the queen did. The skin is a little uneven, but it’s still smooth and cold to the touch.

Weiren frowns a little. If the queen died from that, it would have been yet another failure on their part. Another life lost due to their incompetence. They are very lucky that the party arrived in time to save her. Who knows what would have happened if she died?

The vampire watches them, no doubt trying to read their emotions as well, and Weiren simply leans forward and embraces her, initiating the contact this time. The queen appears to barely flinch in reflex, but only barely, not expecting Weiren to take the move.

“I’m glad that you’re okay,” they whisper, hugging the queen. No matter how she acts when there’s other people around, she’s done them a great service. Weiren will appreciate it for the rest of their life. “Thank you.”

The queen is silent for several moments, not even returning the hug for a second, and they wonder if perhaps they said the wrong thing. Was it too much? But another second later and her arms react, a hand pressing the back of their head into the crook of her neck and another curling around their midsection.

“I am not so easily killed,” she says, and there’s some kind of strange emotion in her words, like she’s mystified by what Weiren said, but it’s too hard to be sure. “I believe you should be more careful with your words. It is dangerous to show such vulnerability to someone you do not know everything about.”

“I suppose,” Weiren returns, reveling in the feeling of being surrounded by the queen again, “but isn’t this whole arrangement about vulnerability?” They’ve revealed much that they’ve never shown to anyone before. 

“Perhaps,” the queen answers, “but not everyone is like me. It is important to take care in deciding to whom you show yourself.”

“I’m… not sure there will be anyone else, at least not for a long time,” Weiren confesses, shame coloring their face as they hang on to Queen Vicouryn a little tighter, “I don’t think- I don’t know, I mean, I guess it doesn’t matter- you probably don’t care about whatever happens when I leave, so-”

“Paladin,” The queen cuts in, and Weiren freezes. It’s the dangerous voice, speaking darkly just above them, and they can feel her say each word with their head pressed against her throat. “Do not presume such things about me. My opinions are my own.”

“I… I meant no offense,” Weiren says weakly, curling into her, “I just mean that… I’ll be gone tomorrow. So this won’t be continuing anymore, and whatever happens to me won’t be a concern. I’m just an adventurer. An outsider. You’re a queen; you have a whole kingdom to worry about.”

“I… understand what you are attempting to say, now,” the queen’s tone softens, “But as I mentioned previously, I believe our paths are likely to cross again. Your Crystal Concord has done much for the Doluum Alliance, especially for Mevaden; you are all a very valuable asset to have. I am certain we will see each other in the future. Our arrangement can continue then, provided it remains secretive. It is mutually beneficial, after all, and I do prefer to have my… business  _ partners  _ in sound health and mind.”

Weiren mulls this over in their head. It makes sense, they think, though they still can’t imagine when they might meet again. It sounds as if Weiren is valued a bit more than just an acquaintance. A business partner is an interesting choice of words, but it seems to be the most applicable. Weiren can agree with that. What they’re doing is business, nothing more. A boon for a boon. Touch for touch. Or technically, if it’s still in payment for Weiren’s first sacrifice, touch for blood.

“Why… are you so nice to me?” They finally ask. They still can’t get over it, the juxtaposition of the queen’s behavior towards them and towards their friends.

“I do not like to repeat myself, Weiren,” the queen answers.

Oh, ok.

There’s a silence for a minute or two. Weiren thinks on the queen’s words. It sounds as if they’ve been useful to her, alongside the whole Concord, of course, and that must be why she is a bit kinder to them. Weiren is the one who volunteered their blood, though, out of their friends. Perhaps it’s because of those acts of… kindness that the queen treats them in such a way. And also because they already know of her vampirism.

The queen focuses her hands on carding through locks of Weiren’s hair. It’s just as comforting as the last time, and Weiren’s practically melting into the chaise lounge. It wouldn’t be surprising if they fell asleep. Is this what it feels like to be a cat? 

The time passes quietly, blissfully, until the queen speaks up again.

“I find it interesting that you seem to trust me so much,” she points out, and Weiren leans back a bit to sit up and properly face her, though it pains them to break the contact, “knowing what I am.” Weiren finds it interesting that she is unwilling to answer their question but seeks similar information from them, although phrased differently. Emboldened by having spent so much time with her already, Weiren takes one of her hands into both of theirs, wishing to give her touch in the way she has them.

“I didn’t at first,” Weiren admits, but they’re not really that afraid of a negative reaction anymore. The queen seems to have more patience and understanding in reserve when she’s not dealing with queenly duties and other people.  _ For them _ , a voice in their head says. “You did, um, persuade me to give you more blood when you knew I wouldn’t say no, and you, uh,” Weiren slows down, a mild amount of anxiety coming back as they start to list out reasons why they didn’t quite trust the queen at first. The queen merely tilts her head quietly, awaiting the rest of their words, so they continue. “You did uh, use a bit of those mind-altering powers. Not that you brainwashed me or anything! It was completely fine, and you’ve also been holding back on your aura since the Vow, which was nice. But then we talked about it, and you were really nice and accepting of- of me, despite everything. I haven’t-” Weiren exhales, getting a little worked up in trying to say whatever they’re trying to say, “you dealt with a part of me that no one sees. Not to get too personal, I know this is all just business. And it helped to know you deal with the same thing, too. I- I feel like you have no reason to hurt me. And like you said, I guess, we’re- the Crystal Concord- um, a valuable asset.”

Vicouryn’s face remains impassive throughout their whole thing, barely reacting, and Weiren finds they have to duck their head and look down at their held hands instead partway through, unable to withstand the unchanging gaze.

“An… adequate answer, I suppose,” she says after a long pause. “I do prefer for loyalty and trust to form naturally; though my powers can assist in getting such a thing started. I am not like Varis; his influence in the city spread entirely through charm and magic.”

That’s what Weiren about expected, which is good. For a vampire who only drinks blood once a year, maintaining so much influence through magic must be beyond her capabilities, or at the very least, very draining.

“While I do appreciate your trust,” the queen says, “I will again reiterate you should be careful who you let come too close. I am a dangerous woman of great power.” Weiren looks up to see a flash of amber in her eyes, and their muscles lock into place. Queen Vicouryn’s electric presence grows, and Weiren feels adrenaline start to pulse through their frozen veins. It’s terrifying, as it was when Weiren first saw the queen after the Blood Vow, but a part of them remains calm. There is no reason for her to harm them. The vampire places a cold hand on their face, cupping it gently. “If I were you, I would not trust me so easily.”

Weiren forces their nerves to calm and centers their mind. They’re locked in her gaze, but are they really? A low breath, a force of will, and Weiren reaches past the influence. Protected by both elven heritage and divine power as well as having spent enough time around her, Weiren surfaces from the queen’s hold, and they reach up to take her wrist. It’s barely perceptible, but Weiren sees it: the surprise on her face and the jolt in her arm, as the paladin shrugs off the charm. And then, almost immediately, she averts her eyes, looking past Weiren instead, as if experiencing shame. 

Weiren holds the queen’s hand to their cheek, and leans into it, prompting her to look back, incredulity barely apparent in her expression.

“I may be reserved, and quiet, and sometimes weak-willed,” they say, softly, “but I am not so easily controlled. You underestimate me as much as I underestimate myself. You are indeed fearsome, but that does not trouble me.”

“You continue to surprise me,” she answers, meeting their gaze again, though she is no longer focusing her influence onto them, “perhaps you are right.” The queen’s energetic presence is still in the air, but it’s not affecting them as much as before.

“I think it’s only fair if I ask next: how much do you trust me?” Weiren asks boldly.

“Enough,” the queen says, “enough to allow you this close, and closer still. It is incredibly rare for anyone to come so far.”

That makes sense. For one as important as her, allowing anyone close is far more dangerous than for one such as Weiren, especially after what transpired just a few days ago in this very room. But is it just trust, or is it that she believes Weiren is too meek to do anything against her? She wouldn’t be the first.

Queen Vicouryn pulls her hand out of Weiren’s grasp and instead takes a hold of their wrist, pulling them closer.

“Come, lie down,” she says, and adjusts herself to recline in the chaise lounge. She tugs at Weiren, leading them forward as they also lift their legs onto the cushions. Their heart is starting to pound, but they allow themself to be shifted, until the two are both prone; the queen on her back and Weiren overlaid partially on top, still in the familiar position where their head is fitted safely beneath hers, and her arm wrapped around their midsection. Weiren reaches out with their free hand, searching, until it finds the queen’s, and they hold it close.

The two of them, paladin and vampire, stay locked together for a long time.


	7. Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiren bids goodbye to Queen Vicouryn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im going to post two chapters this update cuz this one is super short

_ Like every time previously, Weiren’s drifting across the sky. They aren’t alone, though. They can feel the essence of Lynne and Dormin alongside them, just like always. They speed across the continent, the planet, the ground rushing beneath until they come to a stop in a snowy taiga. They recognize the familiar silhouette of a short woman walking down a dense path through tents and weapon racks. A Brauven military camp. Their perspective moves, and they can see her face.  _

_ Empress Ana Arkova of the Brauven Empire, clad in a double-breasted coat bearing insignias representing high ranking nobility. She’s walking away from the camp, and heading towards a larger shape in the distance. There’s another woman, one Weiren doesn’t recognize. Tall, fair-skinned, and with an athletic build, she walks behind, but at pace with the empress. Finally, they’re close enough to hear. _

“ _ And the most recent report?” Arkova asks. _

“ _ Promising. The archbishop is eager to begin. He is easy to read, isn’t he?” The other woman answers, a satisfied smile on her face. _

“ _ I know I’m the one who began this plan, but it’s almost too simple,” Arkova returns. _

“ _ Simple, but effective,” the other says, “with this, we would cripple Doluum, and they would not even know before it happened.” _

“ _ Even if the three kings of Doluum unite, could they recover from this?” The empress muses, and Weiren realizes they’ve made it to the structure. The two women descend down a set of stairs, Weiren’s essence following from behind. “I’m almost hesitant to move forward. I don’t know if this makes it too simple. But if I don’t do at least this much, it would be disrespectful to my opponents.” Arkova passes a set of papers to the other woman. “At any rate, General, this part of the plan is going smoothly at least.” _

_ General? Could this be the General Valsev previously mentioned in their prior visions?  _

_ The two exit the stairway, finding themselves in a large stone chamber. Lights line the walls a fair height up, but the ceiling rises so high that it fades into darkness. At the back and center of the chamber lie an enormous set of stone doors, full of various carvings, including the depiction of Rasta as a lone rabbit, one of the many deities.  _

“ _ Many of the researchers are hoping to learn why we are here. What have you spent all this time and gold on?” The general inquires, looking up at the massive doors. _

“ _ I’ve told you, General. It’s all part of-” _

_ The empress’ mouth falls shut, and she looks over her shoulder. At  _ me _ , Weiren thinks, fear thrumming through them. Arkova’s eyes widen, and she steps away. _

“ _ Well, let’s just keep that fun little secret. What happens next is going to be… fascinating.” _

_ The empress smiles, and the vision dissolves into nothing. _

Weiren’s eyes fly open in alarm, their breath coming fast and hard, and their skin faintly damp from sweat. Another vision. Where are they again?

“Settle down, Weiren. You are safe,” a voice says, and there’s a vibration against Weiren’s face. It helps them calm down but their mind is still spinning. Weiren sits up, bracing their head against their hand as they slow their breathing, processing everything they saw. 

Ana Arkova was at another marker, they know. Those stone doors resemble too strongly the ones the party encountered in the Eighth Marker, the ones guarded by a frost and lightning elemental, just two weeks ago. The one that left Weiren’s most devastating scar. The paladin reaches up to their shoulder and grips it, feeling the slight indentations of the mark. What does she mean, that this will affect Doluum? What can she do with the markers to deal such a heavy but secret blow?

A cool hand settles on top of theirs, and Weiren remembers where they are. 

“Queen Vicouryn! Your majesty, I- I can’t believe I fell asleep again,” Weiren exclaims. Maybe they wouldn’t have, but these strange dreams always seem to force them unwillingly into a deep sleep, until it’s over, of course, at which point they awaken in a cold sweat. It’s not pleasant. Ever since that incident at the Wayfare Stones, they alongside Lynne and Dormin have been having these on-and-off visions of Ana Arkova, though she wasn’t empress when they first saw her. The trio witnessed the exact moment when she killed Emperor Tarkos and took his throne. Since then, the Brauven Empire has been waging war on the countries around it.

“Vicouryn,” the queen says, and Weiren’s so confused that their brain stops entirely and they swivel around to stare at her. “You may call me as such when we are alone, Weiren. The titles and niceties are a bit too formal for meetings such as ours.”

Address the queen of Mevaden by her name alone?

“Wh- are you sure?” Weiren scratches their head, not sure what to make of that. That seems  _ too  _ close for, uh, business partners? 

Queen Vicouryn nods.

“Uhh… okay,” Weiren says, frazzled by both another ominous vision of an aggressive empress and the request of the royalty before them. The vampire stays silent, as if waiting. “Vi-Vicouryn…” Weiren tries, but it sounds so strange coming out of their mouth without the title.

The corner of Vicouryn’s mouth lifts ever-so-slightly, and Weiren feels themself blush. Gods, it’s embarrassing.

“I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Weiren attempts.  _ Again. _

“Again, it is of no consequence. It’s early enough that your friends should still be sleeping; you have time to return before they awake,” the queen returns, and Weiren winces inwardly. Nope, not this time. If the pattern continues as it has in the past, Lynne and Dormin have both awakened a minute ago at exactly the same time as Weiren, and they’re probably expecting them to come over and discuss it like they always do. 

Weiren pulls their pair of fine boots back on as the queen watches on. They probably should hurry to reduce any suspicion of… well, anything. 

“You appear to be distracted,” Vicouryn comments as Weiren wrestles their vest back on. They really are.

“Sorry,” Weiren returns automatically, “just had a bad dream.” 

“It looked like it,” the queen agrees, “you seemed quite perturbed when you awoke.” It sounds like the queen wants to know more, but Weiren isn’t sure they should tell her about the visions. It seems like something people wouldn’t really believe, and the party has kept it mostly secret for now.

“I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s alright,” Weiren says, brushing any knots that might have formed out of their hair with their hand. They’re trying to make it look normal, except they aren’t even sure what would be considered normal if they don’t even have it up in their iconic bun. The queen purses her lips, but she doesn’t pry further.

Instead, she rises from her seated position and glides over to the desk, pulling open a drawer.

“Then, as promised, I shall return this to you.” She reaches in and draws out the worn yellow cord that she took from Weiren two nights ago, and holds it out. Oh, right. Weiren takes it in their hand, looking down at it. It’s kind of sad to see it back in their possession. For the past twenty four hours, it was a promise of another meeting. A guarantee that they would meet again.

The paladin draws back some of their hair to tie up into a bun, leaving half of it still down. There. It keeps a semblance of their usual style, and a reminder of their experience with the vampire queen. 

The queen, Weiren thinks, notices their slightly put-out reaction, for she takes something else from the desk and places it in their hands. A black feather, like a raven’s, though Weiren can tell it’s more specifically a quill. They’ve never seen one of that style before, outside of this study. Weiren can remember the queen using it a few times. It looks very elegant. They blink at it, eyes wide.

“I hope you will take good care of this,” Vicouryn says, curling Weiren’s fingers around it with her own, “so that you may return it to me in the future.”

Weiren needs to take a second to regain control over their voice.

“Thank you. I will,” they affirm, a spark of joy alighting in their chest. Holding this feather means that the queen truly does want to see them again, even if just for business. The promise of another stolen moment together is hopeful. They pull out a small box from their pouch, containing a small inkwell of dark green ink and another quill, though this one is white, and place the dark quill inside. Weiren returns it to their pouch, though they kind of wish they could keep it somewhere more visible. At least this way, it will be well-protected.

Weiren looks back to the queen, who still stands by her desk, several feet away. 

“I… suppose this is goodbye,” Weiren says. Queen Vicouryn nods. The paladin steps towards her, uncertain of what motion exactly they should be going for. They can’t deny it: they want to hug her goodbye, but the meeting is mostly over, and they aren’t sure if that’s appropriate. But perhaps they can at least shake her hand, or something. Weiren holds theirs out and the queen takes it. It’s an interesting gesture to say goodbye considering what they’ve done, but it helps remind them that it’s all just a business arrangement, which is reassuring.

“For now,” the queen returns, “Your journey will take you to many interesting places. Be prepared for whatever lies in wait.”

The two shake hands, and Weiren decides to not press their luck and turns to leave, though it feels like the handshake is not enough, will never be enough. They wonder if the queen feels similarly, if she shook their hand with thoughts of something more instead. At the door, they bow low.

“Good day, Queen Vicouryn, your majesty,” they say, bidding farewell. The title is back, as whatever strange relationship they have with the queen is now on pause for an indeterminate amount of time. How long will it be?

She nods, and raises a hand in dismissal. Weiren bites their lip, loathe to leave this comforting study behind, but there’s nothing left to do but depart.

Once outside of the room, Weiren sighs, sadly, but they must press on. Even if they’ll have to suffer days, weeks, or even months without her touch, at the very least they will probably see her again. Their hand goes down to their pouch, feeling the slight shape of the writing box inside and remembering the black quill. They will see her again. They have to. Weiren can’t go back to nothing again.

The paladin steps down the hall with determination. Now, they must face their friends.

***

Weiren’s excuse was that they tranced early and then went to the library, where they then fell prey to the sleep of the Arkova visions. That’s why they arrived later than they usually do. Dormin nodded. Lynne tilted her head and raised a brow, which Weiren pretended not to see. Then, the group retrieved Kainen to discuss the vision at length. This time, Kainen had something to share as well. Through meditation he saw a vision related to the scions and their mysteries. 

The party doesn’t know how, but everything is connected in some way. The markers, the ley lines, the scions… everything. After their discussion, the destination remains the same. Not only is there more information to be found about the ley lines by the mysterious Druids of the Fargrove, but Kainen’s mother in addition to another scion are trapped in the northernmost reaches of Kandor, where the border is dangerously close to the Brauven Empire.

The party will journey to the Lordships of Kandor, a rugged, dangerous land full of monsters. Enough monsters that they have a force of people called Slayers; it’s their entire job to deal with such beasts and find safe paths between the major settlements of Kandor.

The party packs up their things. Weiren leaves behind a few gold and a note of thanks to the staff of the manor castle. A few party members have conversations with one another, but the time is relentless and soon they must depart.

***

Queen Vicouryn stands by the window, gazing out across her kingdom. But she is not simply surveying her domain. There, just rolling through the noble district, is a cart, heading away.

Leaving.

Vicouryn flexes her fingers. Only a couple of hours ago she’d been shaking a certain someone’s hand, though she had to stop herself from entertaining the idea of pulling them towards her for one last embrace. A certain distance must be kept.

She can see the red cloak of the paladin at the helm, hands holding the reins of the two horses pulling the cart. In the back, there’s the distant forms of their three companions. The Crystal Concord. A very interesting group of adventurers, more interesting than she had initially thought upon first meeting them. Part of her wants to keep watching, until she can no longer see them, but she pulls herself away from the glass. There’s no more time to waste. The queen seats herself at the desk and reaches down to pick up her quill and begin to write, though she’s briefly stopped by the absence of such a writing implement on her desk. She laughs, barely, under her breath, and draws a new one out from a drawer.

It’s time to get back to work.


	8. Queen Vicouryn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen Vicouryn meets the four members of the Crystal Concord.

_ A week ago _ .

***

“I’m glad you could make it,” Queen Vicouryn of Mevaden says, casting her eyes upon this group of strangers. The four of them are a new sight to her: a blonde human with a youthful energy about him, a pale half-elf clad in a large, concealing black cloak, a purple tiefling with a refined manner, and lastly, a brown-skinned wood elf with varying shades in their hair, head tilted down and avoiding her eye contact. They are all dressed in adequately fine clothing, though it is not of Mevaden make. Perhaps they are garb from Gedal, the last city they are said to have visited _. _

“I apologize for summoning you so late into the night. I have received and read over your message, and I appreciate the risks you must have taken in order to deliver it to me.”

“The pleasure is all ours,” The tiefling says, bowing. She’s well-versed in etiquette, Vicouryn notes.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet,” the human says next, also bowing. The half-elf and wood elf both bow as well, though the queen can tell that the elf isn’t used to it, and is merely following the lead of the other three. Interesting.

“Of course. As it pertains to your message, I do not wish to waste your time. This is, to my knowledge, the first time any of you have come to my city. At the very least, a significantly long time. I believe I am correct in that statement,” Vicouryn returns. She’s certain she hasn’t seen any of them before. “This city is my personal pride. I have borne the weight of it for over two years. It was under my father’s rule when we joined the Doluum Alliance. Back then, we did much for Doluum. We provided, and gave much, even moreso than the other two kings: money, people, labor. I believe we have earned our place in this alliance.”

As she speaks, the four before her listen attentively. The human and the half-elf add a few more remarks, but the elf stays mysteriously silent. Vicouryn narrows her eyes; it’s always the quiet ones you have to look out for. It’s easier to read intent when someone is doing or saying something, but the elf appears to just want to blend into the wall behind them. Hm.

The queen leans back in her chair, adjusting her posture. It’s not the first time that she has seen a classless one in her court. It must be a commoner unused to etiquette and the ways of high society, forced to stand before her alongside their friends. They do look fairly uncomfortable, moreso than the others. She’s not particularly impressed, though she’s curious how they managed to join this group and deliver correspondence meant for kings.

“I understand the purpose of your message. The history of recent times as well as your own has been delivered. Mevaden is no stranger to war, and neither are the other two kingdoms. We would normally accept such a request, but at this time, I cannot accept this proposal.” The queen folds her hands, watching closely to read the reactions of the four. “This letter speaks highly of you. All of you, for whatever reason, are specially involved in this motion to create this council. Unfortunately, I cannot leave this city to join the other kings. No matter how much trouble Doluum is in, as Queen of these lands, Mevaden is my priority, and I must hold its people above all else. Right now, I must deal with problems in my own home.”

It’s been frustrating. There have been many strange deaths occurring throughout Mevaden, many of whom were her trusted servants. The people have named it the Beast, though not much information is known about it.

“In the past, this alliance has relied heavily on yourself, and if I may be so bold to say, this alliance needs your support more than ever,” the half-elf speaks up. “If it is other issues that prevent you from partaking, I think I, presumably all of us, would like to know what these issues are. We can provide aid so that this council can go through.”

An interesting prospect, the queen thinks. Calling in outside assistance may be the right choice to deal with the beast. Whatever has been lurking in the shadows has done so for too long, right underneath her, and she hasn’t been able to deal with it directly. Outsiders will be very attractive to the many nobles of Mevaden; there is much opportunity of investigation to be had.

Perhaps this is the correct path forward. The queen gazes across the four adventures, and smirks.

***

_ Two days later, a few hours before the first Night of Rebirth. _

When the Crystal Concord enters the room, Queen Vicouryn is standing in her study, dressed in an ornate gown. Continuing to follow her raven motif, there are dozens and dozens of black feathers layered upon one another, flowing around her shoulders and down a veil on her back. As a servant finishes pinning the last of the mantle up, she gestures to dismiss all of the attendants. 

After they filter out of the room, the queen turns to the group of outsiders she’s hired for the time being. They’re all wearing fairly common clothes, no longer all dressed up in the fine court clothes from a few days ago. They must have been out and about in her city, investigating.

“So what have you discovered? I have some time for any report you wish to make,” The queen asks, resting a hand on her desk. It’s been a couple of days, so surely the Concord must have found out something by now. Surprisingly, it’s the elf who steps forward, after being such a wallflower in their first meeting. Weiren, she recalls, though there is no family name that she is aware of. 

“We met with a laborer this morning who had some information,” the paladin states, “A week or so ago, he witnessed a few bodies being handled by some guards, but it seems that they weren’t city guards. He believes he saw the sigil of House Yelai on their armor.”

Despite Vicouryn’s initial assessment of a meek and nervous character, the paladin conveys the information in a very concise manner. Still, she can hear the slight waver in their voice. Vicouryn tilts her head, barely, and thoughtfully. Lady Yelai… it is not much of a surprise considering how assertive the woman is; there could be many reasons for this scenario. It’s likely she is merely continuing trying to investigate on her own, even if it goes against the crown’s desires. Fool.

“And what is the name of this informant?” She inquires, bringing her hands together. There’s a moment where the paladin glances back briefly at their friends, and they share a short look.

“Your majesty, we promised to conceal the identity of this man in exchange for his information. We can tell you if we must, but we would rather honor this agreement,” The other paladin, the half-elf one, steps forward beside the other. Dormin Vaarmal, the queen knows. At this, she nods.

“A fair deal to make,” she says in acknowledgement, “you may keep your end of that agreement.” 

“That’s not all,” the human adds. Ah, the scion of Ashana. Such a young and hopeful boy. “Last night, we had an encounter.”

The queen sweeps her gaze across all four of the Concord, and takes note of the gray pallor of the previously more vibrant purple tiefling. Somehow, she’s now quieter than even the elf, though she must be feeling in a sorry state right now. “I have heard of your incident from last night,” she states. Nahlia told her as much when the Concord stumbled back into the manor castle, wounded and covered in blood. It must have been quite an unseemly image. “You have a habit of getting into trouble quickly.”

The scion looks down at that. She isn’t surprised, he as well as the others appear to have a bit of a reckless nature about them. It’s what she gets for hiring mercenaries. It is fortunate that they survived the encounter, however. It would have been quite disappointing if the well-praised Concord fell so soon after agreeing to help her. So far, there hasn’t been much they’ve done yet that truly impresses her, though they are doing their job as best they can. Even so, she is careful not to underestimate them, yet. Endorsed by two kings and having managed to escape the besieged Gishal with their princess, the Crystal Concord must have some amount of strength and power. The queen tenses her hand. They  _ must. _

“It was some kind of undead,” the elven paladin says, and she turns her gaze to them. It’s very easy for her to see them avert their gaze in reaction, only barely, but it’s noticeable. They must be looking behind her. Part of her finds it disrespectful, but she does take pride in intimidating those around her, outsider adventurers included. People  _ should _ fear her. Even some of the nobles don’t like to match her gaze. “And there were two civilians as well, though they perished. We reported the incident to some guards soon after.”

“Lady Yelai has a sordid history with these incidents,” the queen speaks, “I don’t have the time or desire to explain this, but you should inquire more.” An undead, though? The reports told of a strange mist. Perhaps an incorporeal undead of some sort. She narrows her eyes, slightly. The tiefling does appear to have been drained of some amount of her blood. Perhaps this creature, whatever it is, is more similar to her than she previously believed. The thought irritates her; it only means the beast will be even more difficult to deal with.

“We’ve already planned a meeting with her; a discussion with some of the nobles,” Kainen Wrys, the scion, pipes up, as respectfully as he can. Oh, interesting. It is good that the nobles are seeing the Concord as an opportunity, as she was hoping. As she predicted, she corrects.

“The nobles of Mevaden hide such things from me, but it seems to Yelai that your skill set is valuable to her,” Vicouryn says, “In this meeting, you must pry the secrets from them. By force, by manipulation, by whatever means available to you, until you find a link.” As she speaks, she looks at each member one by one, reading their reactions, “You are all my guests. But the nobility will see you as an opportunity. Use that to find out what they’ve been hiding. Tell them of your recent achievements, and you will have their attention for doing what you have done for the other lords of Doluum.” The four of them listen attentively, nodding in acknowledgement.  _ Good _ .

The queen doesn’t know exactly how much skill the Concord has in terms of etiquette and conversation, but it’s what they must use in order to dig deeper. There’s more to the group than meets the eye; Vicouryn doesn’t want to be disappointed.

“Now, I must finish my preparations for the Warding Ceremony. You are dismissed.” The queen waves a hand, and watches as Nahlia leads the four of them out of the study. The elf is last to leave, allowing the other three to exit first. Vicouryn doesn’t expect it, but they glance back before exiting. Upon making brief eye contact, their eyes widen, and their pace quickens. 

The door shuts, and the queen allows herself a small, secretive smile.

***

_ The Warding Ceremony. _

As is tradition, the ceremony takes place in the temple district. Most windows are open so that people can bear witness to the event from them, and the visible balconies are all full. Blue arcane light fills the lanterns that line the streets and surround a large open plaza with a raised platform, on which a large stone statue of a magical sigil stands proud and where the queen and her priests await the beginning of the Warding Ceremony.

Queen Vicouryn feels a sense of satisfaction, seeing so many of her people fill the area. The nobles are all here as well, seated respectfully before her, and the priests are ready to begin. Vicouryn stays a few steps back to allow the priests to give their speech, one she has heard many times before.

“No matter the status, everyone here in Mevaden exists in common unity. This space of our city is vulnerable to the outer realms and the corruption of evil, but we have fought back against the darkness time and time again,” the priest begins, hands gesturing to the crowds of people among them. It’s a well-known story to those of Mevaden. The city lies on dangerous land that has faced dark magic many times. The Warding Ceremony is an annual event to bless the belongings of every citizen, to give them a charm to ward off evil. Queen Vicouryn casts her eyes about the crowds, searching. It’s unlikely that the Beast will try anything in such a public space, but it’s possible. Most people wear a respectful, somber expression, though some appear bored. 

After the priest finishes their speech, the nobles are next. In this city, each noble family has their own responsibility to Mevaden, such as the Fairlights, who manage the city guard, or such as Lord Varis, who works with the infrastructure. They all say their own few words, and then bring their own respective items to be blessed. The Fairlights bring an elegant silver sword. Lady Yelai uses a heavy black pendant, though the queen does not recall her ever wearing such a thing. The newest noble, Lady Marie Neval, from a merchant family, has a golden ring, and there’s a pause as she stares at it for just a second too long after the blessing. Queen Vicouryn narrows her eyes, trying to read the woman, but it’s difficult. She is a strange one, and has had issues fully adjusting to the city, the queen knows, though Lord Varis has been mentoring her, as he is far more experienced in the ways of Mevaden. Marie Neval’s family was indeed from Mevaden, though she left for a time until now. Whatever business she handled when she was away still remains a secret. Nevertheless, the queen thinks the woman has potential to become a well-respected and responsible noble to the city.

After Lady Neval comes Lord Kalmire, who is responsible for the rituals of the city. He brings forth a black leather tome, most definitely arcane considering his status as a spellcaster. Lord Varis; a metal charm, one meant for a scepter or something similar to that. The rest follow suit: Lord Trevan and his two sons, each bearing some trinket, the Hollows family, and lastly, Lord Dolan, with a locket of some sort.

Queen Vicouryn watches each noble carefully, but there’s not much to find. Even if the beast lies among them, whoever it is has been too skilled at concealing it. Most of their expressions are impenetrable, already used to behaving a certain way in her presence.

Lastly, she steps forward, though not with an item to be blessed. Rather, she inclines her head and allows the priest to lift up a brush that has been dipped in a strange, glowing paint. Another tradition, though she finds it a bit amusing. She is blessed through sigils painted upon her face and chest, blessed to ward away evil, despite her own nature. The strokes glow a dark blue, similar to the lights around the clearing. She wonders, briefly, what the outsiders must think of such a ritual.

After her is the rest of Mevaden. The ritual will continue deep into the night until everyone has received a blessing of their own, though the queen knows it will not protect them from the Beast. Not until she or the Concord has taken care of it.

As the ritual goes on, the nobles rise and people begin to mingle, but the queen instead turns her gaze to the side, where the Crystal Concord has been placed in order to observe the event, though not to participate. Thankfully, they’ve all acquired some sort of Mevaden attire and are dressed appropriately for the occasion, though it is interesting to see in comparison to their previous appearance. They’ve been respectful throughout the event, with the elven paladin looking around frequently, though never meeting her eyes. A cautious one, the queen notes. Useful to have.

Vicouryn steps down from the platform, her guards coming by to flank her on either side, and she notices as the Concord begins to move. The elven paladin and the scion go together towards Lady Neval, and the tiefling and the half-elf make their way towards the Fairlights.

Good. If all goes accordingly, the Crystal Concord will attend a secret meeting with Lady Yelai and a few others, and hopefully find out more.

***

_ After the Warding Ceremony, the Crystal Concord attends a meeting with Lady Yelai, Lady Fairlight, and Lord Trevon, where they discuss the mysterious Beast that has been plaguing Mevaden, as they are dissatisfied with the queen’s lack of success in handling the matter. The conversation reveals that not only is there an entity killing people, but there is a name that keeps coming up in relation: Dreycal. Many people, including nobles have been connected to this “Dreycal,” though none will speak of it, and will pretend not to know who it is. It becomes clear that this mysterious Dreycal is sure to be interested in the Crystal Concord, and it is likely that Dreycal will attempt to contact them. _

_ During the discussion, Weiren takes note of movement in the window, and realizes that there’s been a spy watching them. A chase ensues, with the party following this mysterious figure throughout the streets, though they end up split. Dormin follows the figure into a building alone. When the rest of the party catches up, they find that the doors to the building are locked.  _

_ With brute force, Kainen breaks through the magically locked door, and the party enters, searching for Dormin. The three find him standing quietly at the edge of the balcony, looking out to the streets and seemingly unharmed despite his solitude and silence. He reports that the figure escaped, and he was unable to keep up the chase. The party retires for the night after informing Lady Yelai and Nahlia what happened. _

_ The following day, the party splits up again. Dormin and Kainen tour the city with Marie Neval, while Lynne and Weiren investigate the building and find a series of documents that contain vague messages about meeting with people, including nobles, at various unnamed places. A closer look reveals the name Dreycal is mentioned several times throughout them.  _

_ Meanwhile, on the walk with Lady Neval, Dormin and Kainen bump into Lord Varis, who invites the two of them to a light lunch prior to a meeting at the Banquet of the Full Moon. During this meal, Varis inquires about Kainen’s and Dormin’s opinions on the way Mevaden is run, mentioning how he is eager to network with people as unique as them.  _

_ The party reunites back in the manor castle and shares their information with one another. Lynne is hesitant to share everything with the queen so soon, considering her past experiences with corrupt nobility, but Kainen and Dormin think it’s a good idea to give the documents to the queen. Having exhausted much of their magical energy in their investigation, Weiren takes the time to meditate and recover before the banquet, and gives the papers to Dormin and Kainen to deliver to the queen. They need to be at their full strength when the queen is vulnerable that evening. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a fun few chapters from ole viccy's perspective


	9. Banquet of the Full Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party attends the Banquet of the Full Moon, on guard for whatever may occur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im impatient so i swap to updated monday and friday  
> with this schedule the fic should be fully uploaded in a month and a half

_ The second of the Nights of Rebirth, the Banquet of the Full Moon. _

_ *** _

Queen Vicouryn is descending the stairs to the first floor when Nahlia leads the Crystal Concord over. In different but still fine Mevaden clothing, the group makes for quite an image. The half-elf and the tiefling bard appear to look comfortable in their finery, even the scion has gotten used to his clothes, but the elf still looks as if the fabric is restricting them. It’s a little pitiful, but they’re still doing their job.

“Tonight of all nights, I am at my weakest. I hope your renowned skills will be put to good use,” the queen states, reaching the bottommost step, “Tomorrow, I will not be in this sorry state. Keep me and my people safe, and you will have upheld your end of the bargain.” She knows that something will happen tonight. The Nights of Rebirth are a mark of change for Mevaden. If anyone is going to try anything, it’s sure to be now, though the queen knows that four adventurers can’t cover every base. They’ve only been here for a few days, while her enemy must have been lurking for years. Even if she has all her guards and attendants as well as the Crystal Concord, her enemy, be it beast or “Dreycal” or both, if her suspicions are correct, has the power to charm and manipulate practically anyone. Though, hopefully, the Concord is strong enough to withstand such tricks of the mind. Tonight will be the most dangerous of all. If she can just make it to the Blood Vow…

At her words, the party of four visibly gets more tense. They must be aware, too, of the stakes. She gives them a steely look as she passes by, nodding, and heads into the banquet hall. Hopefully the gravity of her words will be enough.

The hall is large and expansive, and full of many. All of the nobles are present, talking and lounging about the room, though the queen notices how Lady Yelai, Lord Trevon and Lady Fairlight are avoiding each other. She heard from Nahlia about their little meeting, so it makes sense that they would hide their associations with one another in the public eye.

“These guests of yours, the Crystal Concord, are very interesting, my queen,” Lord Varis remarks from behind, in a way that would have startled any normal person, and the queen turns her head to face the other elf. Similar to her, he is an elf with centuries, though he must be older than her. He has short hair that is graying at the temples, and has a very refined manner. Tonight he wears a dark red coat over a black and gray suit.

“Indeed, Lord Varis,” she agrees, schooling her expression as she always does. Varis also has a particularly difficult-to-read face. As an elf, he also has his own centuries of experience in controlling his expressions, so it is no surprise. “They have proven to be reliable to the other High Kings of Doluum; it is my pleasure to receive them as guests here. It is good to see you are doing well.” There’s an exhausting but expected amount of courtesy and etiquette required in dealing with all the nobles, but she must keep it up.

“Ah, yes,” Varis agrees, “I have heard. Delivering missives in the name of uniting our alliance. What’s curious is that none of them even appear to be from Doluum! I can only wonder how they came to be in such a position.”

Vicouryn has also wondered this, but not for too long. What’s truly important is if they’ll be able to keep her alive by tomorrow, not whatever land they hail from.

“I’m certain that-” Vicouryn is cut off when her earring heats up and vibrates once. What? She turns her head, and finds that Varis has already found the source: the elf paladin, holding up their holy symbol in practically the center of the banquet hall. Of course, now of all times they need to be using divine magic to detect undead. Her eyes narrow at them, the corner of her mouth dipping down, and they blink in surprise, as if not expecting anyone to notice them flaunting their holy abilities around. A few other nobles have reacted, too, most in disapproval, and others by avoiding looking at them. Vicouryn sends Weiren an irritated glance, and they sheepishly lower the symbol and look away. If only the enemy wasn’t also an undead of some sort, this wouldn’t be an issue. Obviously Queen Vicouryn has protection against such magic; people cannot know of her vampiric nature. Her earring is enchanted to block such detection. The paladin must be confused now, getting a garbled response from whatever holy power they’re trying to use. She turns back to Lord Varis, who along with many others, has an uncomfortable expression on his face. How frustrating. 

With the disturbance passed, Vicouryn shares a few more idle words with Varis, chatting lightly before the banquet truly begins. The tables are ready, after all. 

Somehow, not even fifteen minutes later, Queen Vicouryn’s earring pulses again, sending another twinge of annoyance through her, but this time, she finds the source to be the  _ other  _ paladin: the half elf, Dormin Vaarmal, though his use of his divine magic appears to be way more subtle. He’s somehow positioned behind the other three members of the Concord. Either way, though, he isn’t going to get any real detection; her earring will nullify it. The paladin looks at her, slight confusion in his eyes, and the queen sighs in exasperation. Obviously she’s going to need to have a chat with the two divine warriors.

“After the banquet, tell the two paladins to meet me. Let them know that whatever response their magic garners is nothing to be concerned about,” she says, softly, to Nahlia, who also looks at Dormin, and then nods.

“Of course, my queen,” the attendant answers, bowing her head. Hopefully the two won’t try anymore nonsense until then.

People are beginning to gather at the tables when Lady Neval enters the banquet. A shame that she’s the one who’s arrived late; other nobles tsk softly at her. It doesn’t help her reputation. Vicouryn watches from the corner of her eye as the woman speaks briefly with Varis before searching for a seat. It must be time, anyway, for the actual banquet. 

The queen takes her seat at the head of the largest table, and keeps watching as everyone follows suit, finding their own places to sit. Several chairs down, the Crystal Concord sits along one side of the same table as her. Surprisingly again, the elf paladin is the one who sits closest, followed by the scion, then the tiefling, and then the other paladin. Time to see how they all fare at a table of etiquette.

A few of the other lords begin talking, first, while the others remain silent. It’s a series of short speeches about the nearby provinces beyond the Mevaden walls, which then shifts to the threat of the war from Brauven, leading to a bit of attention being drawn to the Crystal Concord. At that, the three of the four members perk up and straighten their spines, acknowledging the talk, though the elf paladin remains looking down at their plate. They do appear to be listening, though.

Many of the nobles express distaste at the thought of going to war, which is no surprise to anyone. Doluum united not that long ago after a long and bloody history of war, and they’ve only just now reached their former glory after reconstruction. The queen takes note of which nobles say what, keeping it in mind for the future. As much of the conversation stays in that sort of reluctance, the Ashanan scion appears to visibly deflate. 

Finally, after much of the hour has passed, Queen Vicouryn stands. It’s time to finally address what everyone is wondering about. Some of these nobles have been gossiping too much.

“The people who serve Mevaden have been troubled as of late. Questions of what the future of our city holds, and doubts. We all know that doubts don’t serve me or the rest of our city well,” she begins, sweeping her eyes across the hall, keeping a level expression. She seeks for any reaction from the nobles. Perhaps here, they may reveal something, but it is not likely. “And though there are threats on the outside of our walls, as always there are dangers within. We are spreading our eyes and finding the tracks and it will be dealt with. Anything in our city that holds ill intent to our ideals and our way of life will be exterminated.”

Of course, she does not call it the ‘beast.’ Queen Vicouryn meets the eyes of many nobles, including ones she has already interrogated previously, but cannot find much more in them than a sense of being intimidated. Her harsh demeanor does not go unnoticed by the outsiders, who have yet to experience her in such a state. The scion is briefly surprised, though the elf appears to be too busy keeping watch on the general area.

The queen exhales, composing herself, and finishes with a few more words. The warning is out there, but how much will it protect her tonight? She’s the weakest she’ll ever be, until tomorrow night.

Her eye is drawn briefly when the tiefling speaks up, but she’s more focused on the fact that the half-elf paladin beside her appears to be trying to subtly cast yet another spell.

Really, at the table? Many nobles send him strange looks, similar to when they witnessed the elf paladin prior to the sitdown. The group is not one for subtlety, the queen thinks with a withering look.

Thankfully, it doesn’t appear to be one to activate her earring. Perhaps he’s just checking the food at the table, though the queen doubts that the enemy will target her in such a fashion.

The banquet finally, truly commences, and people begin to eat. Unfortunately, nothing much occurs that is out-of-the-ordinary. The queen does not eat much, and neither does the Crystal Concord. The four of them must be tense.

The dinner proceeds about as expected, winding down an hour later, and still nothing has happened. The queen notices the Concord having an intense discussion, with a bit of animosity between the scion and the elf paladin. The party then splits up, with the scion heading off to a window, perhaps for a quick breath, while the rest of the Concord remains seated, quietly. The queen turns her attention away to try and keep her own eyes open, but there’s so many damn nobles in the room, several of whom are actively trying to talk to her, and she has to focus on that.

A few minutes later, the queen realizes that the Concord has further split up, and the elf paladin is nowhere to be found. Hopefully up to something useful, but if the last few hours have taught her anything, it’s certain to be some sort of divine magic. At least Nahlia should be keeping watch.

Not too much later, the queen notices the paladin re-enter the banquet hall.

She watches as Nahlia intercepts the paladin, thankfully, and takes them aside to communicate the request for a meeting, and the warning of their ineffective magic. The paladin turns their head to look at the queen, trepidation in their gaze, and she merely nods. The elf retrieves the other paladin, and the two inform the tiefling and the scion prior to heading towards the queen.

The queen’s suspicions are confirmed when her earring, for the third time today, pulses, and continues to pulse, as the paladin passes a threshold of a certain distance towards her. They are not in the process of currently casting a spell, but it seems that they are currently focusing on one. This magic they’re using is different. It’s not like a quick read of the energy of the room, but a constant hum of magic in an aura around them. Another bit of holy magic, though it should still be blocked by her jewelry. 

“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to speak with both of you privately, for but a moment,” The queen requests, looking down at the elf paladin’s side, where they are holding something in their hand. A holy symbol, she presumes. They notice her gaze.

“I wouldn’t mind at all,” The elf returns with a surprising amount of control and confidence.

“What will this meeting entail?” Dormin inquires, appearing to be slightly nervous.

“This is a private matter. I will explain to you when we are elsewhere,” the queen answers. Damn paladins.

“Do you think that we perhaps should have the others of the Concord with us?” Dormin tries again, and the queen shakes her head.

“It is unnecessary.” As far as she knows, the other two don’t possess any abilities to detect beings such as herself, so the conversation will not concern them. With that, the queen turns to leave, gesturing for the two of them to follow. A few other servants come to escort them as well. They all make their way down the hall and up the staircase to the second floor. Many nobles and attendees take note of the Concord accompanying her, but she still can’t sense who the enemy may be.

Finally, they reach the study and enter, letting the large doors shut behind them. The queen steps towards her desk before finally speaking, sitting down in her chair and gesturing for the other two to take their seats as well before her.

“As worshippers of the divines, I could tell that you were attempting to detect the presence of things alien, evil or unforeseen, and I wished to make you aware that this will not work in my presence. I have on me an item that will disrupt such magic, in a way that often leaves people suspicious,” she says carefully. There’s only a specific amount of information that they need to know. “You have no reason to fear me, but I must make you aware of the reactions your magic will bear. I trust that this knowledge will not hinder your investigation, going forward.” The queen looks between both Dormin and Weiren, gauging their reactions. Both of them look concerned.

“Your majesty, why did you make us aware of this now and not before?” Dormin asks, and the queen narrows her eyes.

“Because, it is my business,” the queen returns, coldly, “and I am only mentioning this to you now out of good will.” She will not entertain any prying from these; this secret is one that must remain secret.

“Pardon my curiosity,” the elf, Weiren, speaks up, “but is there a particular reason why you have this kind of object? Does it protect from anything in specific? Any enemies, or…” they trail off, confusion in their eyes. 

“It is for my own protection. And I do not need to explain any further. I am only telling you this to confirm that it is nothing to be of concern,” the queen answers. The two are curious no doubt, as such a protection is not common, but she cannot risk them knowing anymore. She needs to stop them from learning anything else.

The elf makes an interesting expression, cocking their head as they in turn read the queen’s face. Queen Vicouryn can tell that Weiren knows she isn’t telling them everything, and she sharpens her gaze, challenging them to even  _ dare _ inquire further, and they shrink back a bit.

“W-well, it’s good information to know. Anyway, were you… we’re having some difficulties finding any more information, but, were you able to get anything from the papers we gave you earlier? The ones we found this morning.” The paladin smartly leaves behind the topic and instead asks about something else. At this, the queen draws her brows together. Papers?

“I was not given any papers,” she claims, gazing down upon the pair, “and I have not looked over anything. My focus has been on the banquet.”

At this, Dormin begins to rub his hands together. What’s this? It seems his trepidation is not without reason. 

“Well, uh, earlier today, Lynne and I found some documents concerning some nobles and the mysterious Dreycal. Dormin and Kainen should have brought it up to you before… the banquet?” Weiren trails off, looking between the queen and Dormin in confusion, but the half-elf remains stubbornly silent. Of course, even the outsiders she’s hired have been compromised. Worrying, and disappointing.

“Sounds like you have issues amongst your friends that need to be resolved,” the queen says, directing her attention towards the elven paladin, “But I do not have time to look over these documents, and I confess that I, as the night goes on, am growing weary. While I am normally confident in my own self-protection, I am worried that there are people in my home seeking to harm me and to take information from me. And it seems like some of your friends may not be as trustworthy as I thought.” At those last words, she sends Dormin another judging gaze, disdain in her voice, before looking back to Weiren. The half-elf is paler than his natural tone, and he’s avoiding her eye contact.

She will have to handle this herself.

“If you wouldn’t mind, Weiren, I would like to speak to Dormin, alone,” the queen addresses the elf. She may be able to snap this other paladin out of his stupor yet. Weiren looks at their friend, still concerned. Vicouryn wonders how much of her anger is showing in her face, but she cares little about concealing it in this instance.

“Dormin, are you okay? Why- why didn’t you give her the papers? Did you lose them or something?” The elf asks, reaching a hand towards the other paladin.

“There were complications. I can’t explain right now, but just trust me,” Dormin says, sending a weak glance to Weiren, who still seems troubled by the implications. But, certainly, they dare not disobey a queen. The elf looks back and forth between the other two a few more times, before setting a hand on Dormin’s shoulder as they rise.

“Come- come find me when you’re done, okay? I’ll wait outside. We should talk about this,” Weiren says, and Queen Vicouryn can see a broken expression in their eyes. No matter, this must be done. The paladin stands, and backs away uncertainly before exiting. The two paladins look at each other until the doors shut, separating them.

This will be quite the time. 

Queen Vicouryn herself stands from her chair and steps towards Dormin, eyes as cold as ice as she approaches. The paladin is sweating bullets, as he should be. Weak as it may be, the queen expands her aura to fill the room, chilling the very air around them

“It seems that you and your friends disagreed on giving me these documents. I wonder why,” she begins, focusing on Dormin’s eyes.

“I simply felt there was no reason to give you this information; it was not- pertinent, at the time,” the paladin answers, his words coming out as if he’s struggling to say them.

“Wasn’t pertinent? Sounds like valuable information that I could use to track a potential threat,” The queen returns, continuing to bear down all of her aura and intimidation on him.

“W-we were on our way to give them to you! I-I simply mulled it over in my head and there was a complication. I didn’t feel like it was important enough to give to someone as important as y-”

“I wonder,” the queen cuts in, stopping the paladin’s words, “if maybe, you weren’t listening to some  _ bad _ advice from someone. If some  _ vermin _ didn’t slip its way even deeper into my court than I imagined. Have you spoken to any new friends, recently, Dormin?”

“Well I’ve, I’ve spoken to many nobles in your court,” he answers, clearly terrified out of his mind, and Vicouryn pushes here, sending her influence over him. Perhaps she can read his thoughts. The paladin recoils, and resists, stopping her magic in its tracks. Queen Vicouryn frowns. This may be even more difficult. She steps back to change tactics, and instead begins to circle around the seated paladin.

“I see, and none of these nobles gave you the foolish idea to hide things from  _ me _ and keep things from me even though we are in  _ my  _ city?” She keeps her eyes trained on him as she moves about, and his discomfort grows further and her anger colors her voice even more. There’s sweat beading on his brow and he’s curling in on himself as best he can.  _ Good _ .

“I-I-” He begins, but can’t bring himself to say anymore.

“It sounds to me like you might be forgetting which side you stand on,” the queen states, as calmly as she can, continuing to surround Dormin with her presence, “Maybe, you are getting confused.”

“I would never betray the crown!” Dormin exclaims, as she passes in front of him, and he matches her gaze against his will. Vicouryn slows her words and steps, ready to influence him.

“I wonder, if maybe, you need to look inside yourself and remember why you are here. Remember who your friends are and maybe see you’ve made a mistake,” she says, drawn out, and here she concentrates her power, locking Dormin in place with her gaze. She just needs to override the other charm.

“I-I believe there are forces that are trying to manipulate me outside of this room,” the paladin admits under the weight of her gaze, and then instantly he backpedals as he resists yet again. “No, wait, I mean, I- I only have friends. No one is trying to manipulate me!” Vicouryn curses internally, her anger rising to a simmer, as she comes to a stop directly in front of him. Perhaps, one last try. If she can’t break the influence on this man, she will have to deal with him in another way.

For the last time, she focuses her energy. Perhaps if she wasn’t so damn weak right now, on the day before her power replenishes, this would have gone a lot more smoothly. She tries to read his thoughts, closing her eyes and projecting forward, but again the paladin pushes her influence away. 

Vicouryn clicks her tongue in frustration. Weakened to the point where this frightened young half-elf can bat away her powers like nothing. It’s demeaning.

“It’s starting to feel like you are more of a hindrance than a help,” she says, looking down at him, patience thinning, “I don’t think I can trust you to have the right intentions. I order you, Dormin, to surrender your weapon,” the queen gestures to the longsword strapped at the paladin’s waist. This is the only other thing she can do to stop him from doing something he’ll regret. The paladin blinks, clearly resistant to the idea.

“I’ve only ever been in your service, my queen! I’ve been trying my best to figure out the problem!” He exclaims, desperately, hand grasping his scabbard protectively.

“I don’t need you to figure out the problem; I’ve already seen it.” The queen shakes her head. “Surrender your weapon.” She fixes him with another gaze, though this one is just entirely crafted from her irritation and intimidation, not from her powers, and the paladin stares at her with wide eyes. Finally, after a moment, he unlatches the scabbard from his belt with a trembling hand, letting the sheathed longsword clatter to the ground. At the very least he can listen to her commands.

“Now,” the queen continues, “you’re going to surrender to voluntary confinement until I believe you’re fit to aid your friends.” She snaps her fingers, and the servants and Nahlia open the door. “Our guest needs to be taken to a private room, temporarily, until I have time to make sure that they have properly recovered. I think three guards should suffice.” At this, the attendants nod, and duck out to retrieve the aforementioned guards.

“Your majesty, please, I implore you,” Dormin tries, “I’m not your enemy!”

His pleas fall on her, but they roll off like water on feathers. If she cannot break the charm, he must be kept isolated until the Blood Vow.

“I don’t think you truly know what you are, right now. Mevaden is a strange place, Dormin, and I need to protect myself. Surrender, for now, and you will be making the right choice for Mevaden, and the right choice for the Doluum Alliance,” she says, finally, and she feels fatigue settle on her shoulders. Three armed guards enter the room, and the paladin sighs in defeat. He ducks his head, and the guards take him by the shoulders to escort him out. The queen allows herself a single breath to recover, and follows them out of the room.

The elven paladin, Weiren, is waiting farther down the hall for their friend, and reacts in shock upon seeing their friend, pale and trembling, surrounded by armored guards.

“Someone has influenced your friend. Dormin is unsafe, at the moment,” she says as she approaches the other elf. The rest of the Concord must know.

“Influenced? Do you mean charmed or possessed or something?” Weiren looks past the queen at the retreating, hunched form of their friend, trying to assess his condition.

“Someone has made him believe that they know what’s best for him,” the queen responds simply, unwilling to explain too much to them. She’s tired of it all.

“Um, uhh, do you think I could have a minute with him?” Weiren asks, causing the queen to lift an eyebrow, “I might have something that may be able to help.” The paladin doesn’t appear to have any nefarious intentions; she’s fairly certain they aren’t charmed right now. Perhaps there is something they can do. As a paladin, they may have a certain spell or something to deal with conditions such as this.

“I will allow a minute,” the queen says, though she isn’t optimistic. Even if the paladin tries, it’s certain to still end in Dormin being locked up for the rest of the night, especially after her three failed attempts to get anything out of him.

“Thank you,” the paladin nods, and approaches their friend. The queen follows, watching with a critical eye. The guards turn to face Weiren, holding the other paladin still.

“Weiren, tell these people that I mean them no harm! Tell her majesty that I’ve only been trying my best!” Dormin pleads, looking at Weiren in desperation. He isn’t resisting, physically, but it is clear he wants to get out of this situation. Weiren, in turn, reaches up to grasp their holy symbol, and closes their eyes briefly, not replying to his words. Instead, they focus. The paladin chants something and lays their free hand on Dormin’s chest, making a few motions, and a divine magic, the queen presumes, falls upon their friend. Weiren looks back at the queen, nodding, and she sighs again, wearily, and approaches, for the fourth and final time. 

She doesn’t care to take her time in this, and just reaches out to grab Dormin’s jaw and forces him to make eye contact, silently wielding magic to remove whatever influence is upon him. Though, more technically, she’s forcing her own effect to replace the existing one, and then removing it. She needs the paladin to be as clear headed as possible. Hopefully,  _ finally _ , this should work. And hopefully, the paladin is too occupied with his mind and emotions to notice her cold temperature. 

Dormin’s expression turns from fear to confusion as the magical effects leave him, and he looks away, breaking their gaze. Vicouryn knows she’s succeeded, and lets go. 

“It seems that this has helped Dormin come to his senses,” she says, turning to Weiren to regard them, a bit more respect than previously. “But, what this also tells us is that, most likely, my enemy has already planned and begun making their move. I would make sure that the rest of your friends are still your friends.” If Dormin and Kainen were the ones to fail to deliver the information to her, then Kainen, and by extension, Lynne, too, perhaps, may be compromised.

“Alright,” Weiren agrees, and there’s a worried but determined look in their eyes. 

“Your majesty, I have the documents in my possession,” Dormin speaks up, weakly, and her annoyance spikes again. She has wasted much time and energy on him already.

“I cannot do anything with them tonight, Dormin. You would best serve me and your mission if you find your friends and make sure they are not compromised, and to find the beast before they do whatever it is they are planning,” she says, controlling her voice as much as she can in her current state, but she is so tired. This whole ordeal has taken quite a toll on her, in her weakened state. If she had more blood...

“We will find them,” Weiren says, and there’s an impressive tenacity in their voice that the queen takes note of. Quite a difference from the meek and silent elf of their first meeting.

“I will return to the banquet shortly. Be on your way,” Vicouryn says, and allows the two paladins to leave, before stepping back into her study. She needs just a moment to rest.

***

It is interesting that the elven paladin possesses the power to protect others from the influences of those such as herself, the queen muses, though it does make sense. It’s dangerous to have two of the adventurers be of such a holy nature, to her, but it does have its benefits. After all, Dormin was charmed, somehow, by the enemy, and it is only thanks to the other paladin that the influence was broken. It would have been quite a nuisance if Dormin remained enthralled, and it further confirms her suspicions. The beast must be a vampire, like herself. If not a vampire, then something very, very similar.

Queen Vicouryn is rolling a quill in her fingers, resting in her study when she hears the first cry of pain, and then another, and then another, each getting progressively louder. She recognizes the voices of her attendants and guards, and she grimaces, dropping the parchments. The two servants in the room flinch, looking at each other in fear.

So the beast has grown bolder, and right after she dismissed the Concord from her quarters, too. They will pay for their actions, but the queen is worried. She’s just expelled so much energy already, and the Crystal Concord is elsewhere. She will have to deal with this as best she can, alone. Even weakened, she is still a vampire with considerable power.

She rises from her chair, quickly, but whoever is tearing through her aides is nimble, and throws the doors open before she can reposition herself. A slim figure, clad in black and face obscured with a mask and hood, slices through the two servants with ease, their screams dying on their lips, and then sheaths the bloody blade and instead draws a bow, darting to the side. Switching to a ranged weapon in close quarters? The queen increases her aura, focusing her gaze on the assailant, and forces her presence upon them, but it has no effect. Vicouryn’s eyes widen in shock, but she gets ready.

The rogue takes the opportunity, still moving along the side of the room to flank and fire. Vicouryn steps to the side, but she realizes too late that the rogue was counting on that reaction, and she hisses as the arrow strikes her in the chest. It hurts far too much to be a normal arrow, and she glances down to see strange white symbols forming around the shaft where it pierces her flesh.  _ Enchanted _ arrows. Her anger grows to fury. How  _ dare _ whoever this is!

Queen Vicouryn stumbles back, growling in anger and pain as the figure vaults over some of the chairs on the side, using the furniture as cover. The vampire isn’t about to let them get closer, and she looses a volley of necrotic blasts from an outstretched hand, barely wincing as the movement pulls at the wound on her chest. A second later, and she realizes her body isn’t regenerating the way it normally should. The magic slams into the furniture and walls, shaking the foundation of the room, but the figure leaps up to avoid the blast, another white arrow nocked in their bow. Vicouryn lifts her chair with a wave of her hand and another chant, and throws it in front of her, catching the next arrow and slamming into the figure. 

“Who sent you?” she growls, already beginning to grow more necrotic energy in her palm, but there’s no response, and the figure darts out from behind the chair, seemingly not that injured, and aims yet another arrow. The queen moves, deftly gliding across the room to the other side where there’s a bit more cover for her to use. The two exchange blows, though the archer fires less frequently. There must be a limited number of those enchanted arrows.

Vicouryn throws out a hand and lets loose another series of arcane blasts, this time of a more forceful type of magic, and still, frustratingly, the rogue avoids them, letting the magic slam against the window, cracking it.

She needs them to get closer, Vicouryn realizes, where they won’t be able to dodge so freely. 

The queen darts forward, murmuring another incantation and both of her hands come alight with pulsing, black energy. This magic, she knows, is lethal. 

From behind a table, the rogue stands, bowstring pulled taut as Vicouryn approaches. In that moment, they let go, setting the arrow free as Vicouryn’s hands stretch towards them. Devastating magic arcs from her fingers, curling around the assailant who lets out a pained scream. Vicouryn watches with satisfaction as blood sprays from their body, a sludgy black fluid as her magic rots their flesh, but she cannot avoid the second arrow as it buries itself into her ribcage, pushing through until it’s fully speared through her body, and she gasps in pain, hand coming up to grasp at the wound. Like the first one, a series of white symbols flare to life around the shaft as its foul magic takes hold. Vicouryn takes several steps back, feet unsteady. She knows that these arrows have pierced her vitals, and she finally drops down to a knee, finding the wall at her back. 

_ Shit _ .

She can feel her vision swimming, doubling, as she leans back against the stone, pain radiating throughout her entire body. Vicouryn has been cautious, as cautious as she can be knowing that the beast is out there, but it still wasn’t enough. At least Nahlia was elsewhere when the assassin arrived; hopefully she has survived.

_ Damn it all _ .

She’s livid, but there’s nothing she can do as her consciousness departs.


	10. Vampire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiren offers the weakened queen their blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dam viccy do the succ but this time its from her perspective  
> also im basically done writing the fic now, theres 12 more chapters to go after this :)

It is not often that Queen Vicouryn is unconscious. She’s always surrounded by a comfortable darkness of some sort, but this is an unfamiliar kind. It’s cloying, and choking, and even though she is already undead, this darkness is one that seeks to truly kill her. 

She doesn’t think she’s gone, not yet. Somehow, she’s faintly aware of a metallic taste in her mouth. Her body urges her to drink, to consume, but her mind tells her to stop.  _ Remain in control _ . She will not succumb to the beastly urges of a mindless creature. But with the taste, a bit more of her awareness returns. Words float down to her darkness, circling her.

“...been too long since the Blood Vow… does the queen require…to survive?” It’s the voice of the elven paladin, interspersed with the voice of Nahlia. The sounds sway and drift around her, sentences not fully formed. There’s something happening.

“...strong blood… must be enough…” Nahlia’s voice fades in and out again, still fleeting. 

A few more moments pass, and there’s yet another pressure at her lips. More blood, and her body craves it, so, so, badly. For a second, she drinks, but  _ no _ , she recoils, she cannot succumb. Her automatic response kicks in, forcing her away from the blood. She is more than a bloodthirsty beast. She will not be forced to give in.

Although she’s lost in a sea of weakness and aches, there’s a sharp pain. She gasps, inhaling, still trapped in her own mind, as something is forced through her chest. It’s excruciating, and then it’s gone, as if something that wasn’t supposed to be there is finally removed.

She’s aware of blood, yet again, even more, by her face, and then she’s seized by another bout of terrible pain. Yes, there were two. Two arrows. The last one must be… extracted. She’s lost in the pain, but cannot react. She is too weak to come to consciousness.

Finally, after what feels like a never ending pain, the intrusion is gone, the foul magic dissipated, and she shakes, coughing violently, her body beginning to truly awaken. Automatically she begins to drink, her survival instinct kicking in. Yes, she needs blood, she needs it to live, but then her training fights back, and her eyes fly open. 

There’s a bleeding hand in her face, and she snatches the wrist angrily, looking around wildly and trying to assess the situation. Where is the assassin? Did she kill them? But instead, she sees the Ashanan scion before her, trying to pull away from her grasp. Queen Vicouryn realizes her anger is too apparent, upon seeing the scion’s reaction, and immediately clamps down on her emotions, schooling her face.

“What are you doing? I did not ask for your blood!” She hisses, and practically throws his wrist away, and notices that the rest of the Crystal Concord, a guard and two of her attendants are in the room. Her breathing slows, realizing that the danger is mostly passed, but the situation is still bad. The scion, who she notices has at some point equipped his armor, looks shocked, and then reaches again towards her with a cloth in his hands.  _ No. _ She bats his hand away and sends him another glare.

“Do  _ not _ touch me,” she warns, and then grimaces, still in pain. Gods, it hurts so bad. But she will be fine, now that she is conscious. She takes a second to close her eyes, recovering, and then looks back to the room. “I was attacked, someone with marked arrows. I killed them; are they dead? Are they properly dead?” 

“She’s dead,” Kainen answers, turning away to point. She catches sight of the crumpled figure in the corner of the study, and feels herself relax just a bit, but does not let it show. She allows herself another breath to compose herself, rebuilding her stoic mask, shard by shard, to hide her emotions. Glancing down, her wounds look lethal, perhaps, to a normal mortal, but she will survive. The queen readjusts her bloody dress; it has been pulled down to allow the Concord to remove the arrows, she assumes, and draws it back up, concealing the wounds. The remains of the strange curling arrows lie on the ground beside her, and she glances at them with disgust. The assassin was very prepared.

“It seems like I was hurt more than I expected,” she says, wiping slowly at her face with a dark sleeve, “There is something wrong with those arrows, but I can assume that you know more about me than I would like, after seeing me in such a state.” The four of them must know by now. There’s no way they haven’t learned of it. It’s disappointing, but she’s resigned. She’ll have to work with it. 

“Well, there’s no need to mince words, then. Let’s cut to the chase,” Dormin says, and she looks up at the paladin coolly, almost daring him to react negatively. “We know what you are, and we understood that blood would make you stronger.” He, like the scion, and actually, like Nahlia and Lynne, too, have blood on their hands. The queen exhales with extreme control, frustrated at how many people seem to have been intent on feeding her blood against her will. “We were trying to keep you alive.”

“We, um, we found out by temporarily taking off your uh, earring,” Weiren points out, “So that we could figure out what would be best to do for you.” The queen’s hand rises, immediately, but thankfully she can still feel the black gem hanging from her ear. So it was returned.

“Your wounds were very severe.” The scion gestures towards her, still offering cloth bandages to her, and she shakes her head, annoyed.

“I don’t need help. Not help like that,” she says, “my body is weak, but I am not going to die from losing a little blood.” The scion’s hand falls as she braces herself against the wall, drawing herself up to her full standing height, though the motions pull at her injuries. The carpet around where she collapsed is stained dark from her own blood, and she sees, briefly, a large splash of even more across the window behind her, seeping into the cracks. No matter. 

She smoothly falls back into her regal demeanor, moving with grace and purpose, to address those in the room. She catches sight of Nahlia, leaned against a wall, eyes full of relief, and though she does not show it, she feels her own anger subside a bit at knowing her attendant is okay. The other attendant is alright, too, tears brimming quietly in his eyes. Good.

In contrast, the Crystal Concord has expressions of mixed emotion, certainly dealing with the information that Vicouryn is a vampire on top of being the Queen of Mevaden. Hopefully it will not affect their ability to do the job.

“Well, I think you can report to the others that the Queen is alive. That will probably bring some relief to the rest,” Dormin speaks up, turning to the guard. Yes, she thinks, and the guard salutes at her.

“I will be retiring, privately, to another room, for a time. I do not expect an audience, but I do expect every one of my guests to be questioned thoroughly. This woman…” the queen, now standing, gets a better look at the assailant, and scoffs. Lady Neval? How interesting. “Lady Neval. She is just a weapon, I can tell. It seems my enemy found a very effective tool; I did not expect Marie Neval to possess such skills, but I suppose I should not be surprised. What she did on all of her travels was, in fact, a secret. It seems that she was no ordinary merchant’s daughter. How unfortunate.” She tilts her head, regarding the deceased woman. “I believed she had potential; but she was used, and there is still someone out there.” Whoever was controlling the woman has yet to be caught, and Vicouryn is intent on enacting punishment. She turns back to address the guard. “Do not let any of my guests see me in this state. Clear the hall. I will change and clean myself,” she commands.

“Yes, my queen.” The guard salutes again, heeding her command, and exits the room to deliver her orders. Now left with just the Concord and her attendants, the queen begins to remove some of the stained accessories from her dress, leaving them on her desk. It’ll be a bit of work to get all of the blood off and be back in a presentable state. Her chest twinges in pain as she moves, but she ignores it. It is nothing of concern, anymore.

“Your majesty,” Weiren speaks up, “after Dormin and I left, we came upon a meeting with a few of the nobles. Lord Fairlight, Lord Kalmire, Lord Dolan, and Lord Varis. They were all surrounded by a strange undead mist, and were left immobile, though still alive. The guards are taking care of them right now.” The queen narrows her eyes, thinking it over. What could that even mean? What would the purpose of such an act be?

“It seems someone’s plans are more complicated than I thought,” she assesses, “Most likely we are not through with our assailant tonight. My life is fragile at the moment. If Marie Neval was a weapon meant to kill me, then the plan has failed. If she was a weapon planned to weaken me, then she has succeeded. I am very weak; I cannot restore my body when I am this starved.” 

She is so incredibly hungry, but centuries of training and discipline have prepared her to remain in control.

“Whoever it is must have known that tonight would be when you are at your weakest,” the scion adds, and she nods. It falls in line with her theories.

“I suspect that we are dealing with one like me, because only one who lives the life I live would be able to have that information, for I have ensured it would not spread through word of mouth.  _ Very _ carefully ensured,” she says, eyeing the four of them. They have learned much information and already done much for her, but an assassin did manage to slip by them. To be fair, though, there is not much that can be done when the enemy has the ability to enthrall any of them, a fact that still bothers her.

“I need to rely on you tonight, but you must understand. This secret cannot be revealed,” she says in a dark voice, “It  _ will  _ not be revealed. Do you understand me?” With the last question she locks eyes with each member of the Concord, landing on Weiren last, who nods after swallowing nervously. “Good.” This intimidation is hopefully enough to keep their mouths shut.

“Also, your majesty, the situation was as we had feared,” Dormin says, “whoever this is was indeed trying to manipulate us by magic. But, you can rest assured now that we are all of sound mind.” She turns her attention back to him, regarding him carefully, and his eyes seem clear.

“I saw in you the signs of enthrallment, Dormin. Something I have an adept perception of. I sense that it is no longer there,” she agrees, and thankfully she does not sense anything of a similar sort in the others as well. She glances back towards the assassin. “But unfortunately for our Lady Neval, her enthrallment must have run quite deep for her to attempt a suicide mission like this.” It truly is a pity. She’d been planning on meeting more frequently with the woman after the Nights of Rebirth to get her more involved in the going-ons of Mevaden, but it seems as if that path has been cut off.

“So, you were the one who discovered what was going on with Dormin,” Kainen says, slowly looking up to the queen, “and with myself, too.” There’s a sense of shame in his posture. One in a position of leadership such as himself, a scion, must feel poorly at having been manipulated. As he should.

“It would not serve me to have my four hired mercenaries compromised as traitors. I simply removed that seed of misinformation,” she merely replies, though she briefly gives Weiren an assessing look. If Kainen was influenced as well, then they must have dealt with him as they did with Dormin. A valuable skill that was used well. Somehow they must have broken the charm on the scion without her abilities. Her gaze moves onto her dazed attendant. “Nahlia, I require a change of clothes. It will not do for me to walk about dripping blood as I am.” The aforementioned attendant startles at being addressed, no doubt still processing everything that has happened. Like the queen, though, Nahlia resumes her stoic and reserved demeanor, falling back into the steps of being the queen’s attendant.

“Of course, my queen. I will return immediately,” Nahlia dips her head, and leaves out the door alongside the other attendant. Vicouryn watches the door close with fondness; the woman is certainly an honorable one. She’s the most trusted of any of Vicouryn’s aides. 

The queen turns back to the Concord, now left alone with them.

“I am afraid that in my current state, I am too weak to offer much assistance in any regard,” she admits, “I have been starved of blood for a year, exactly, until tomorrow night, when I would return to my full power. Unfortunately, I cannot simply partake of my servants’ blood. It is thin with power, and I require more than would be practical for them to provide. I cannot allow my most prized aides to fall weak and ill.” This is true. Though she has many who most certainly would be willing to give blood, she does not find the idea of draining them appealing. Their bodies simply are not strong enough to provide her with the kind of blood she needs.

“Why did you refuse our blood earlier, then?” Lynne inquires, finally speaking up. She’s been very quiet, as she has been before, and she can see that she still is a bit drained of her own blood. Not from her, she knows, but from the other encounter with the beast.

“Your blood is more potent, but I have trained myself with rigorous discipline. Years of focus to control my hunger. My family has special techniques that allow me to live a different life from our kin of different bloodlines.” This is more information than she is normally willing to share, but the times call for it. “Vampires are driven by hunger before anything, and our family, as the ones who rule this land, could not afford to be controlled by such a base, unpredictable desire.” She can feel her own disdain come through as she says the last word. 

“So, I imagine I was rejecting the blood because my training has been successful. I only partake of blood when I choose. It will never be dictated by my body,” she finishes firmly. There’s a bit of satisfaction as she says that. It is rare for vampires to reign control over their desires. For her, she has subsisted from the Blood Vow for years, and has not directly drank someone’s blood in a long time, until now, she supposes, even if it was against her will. 

“Perhaps the rest of you should get ready, as well,” The scion says, changing the subject, gesturing to the rest of the Crystal Concord. The other three are still wearing their banquet finery, while he is just about ready for battle. They look at each other, considering the situation.

“I suppose, depending on how we’re planning on taking action next,” Weiren returns, thinking, and then looks toward the queen. “Is it an option that we could perhaps help guard you?”

“Whoever is trying to take my life knows that they are almost out of time,” the queen says, “However, I wish to see the one who killed my aides… I wish to see them punished.  _ Harshly _ .” Were she not in such a sorry state, she would wish to enact the punishment herself. Alas, she must entrust such a thing to these four outsiders. Having stronger guards would be nice, but having her enemy hunted down and killed is better, even if she cannot assist. Weiren nods, understanding her intent. “But, until I partake of strong enough blood, I cannot… I am severely limited. Even- even staying standing is proving to be an exertion,” she confesses. Normally it does not do well to show such weakness, especially to outsiders,  _ mercenaries _ , but at this point she barely has a choice. She is too weak to accomplish anything more by herself. She  _ needs  _ them all to finish the job. The elf raises a hand to their chin, thinking.

“If… if it would help,” they begin, drawing her attention, “I would give some blood...” 

What?

Queen Vicouryn tilts her head at this. A stranger, one not even from Doluum let alone Mevaden, a mercenary, a  _ paladin _ above all, offering to give their blood for the life of a vampire? 

“-If you would be willing to partake, of course,” they add quickly. Vicouryn can see their friends behind them look at each other uneasily, expressions of incredulity as they consider that possibility. This is an intriguing offer.

“You would be feeding an undead monster, paladin,” the queen returns, eyeing them, reading their face, “you make interesting choices with your life.” She almost wants to dissuade them from the offer; it’s so surprising to her. Does a holy warrior truly wish to aid an undead such as her? The offer must conflict with so much of their training, and yet, they still give it. Out of a desire to complete the mission, or out of something such as… compassion? 

The paladin’s eyes flit down, not replying to her words, and then looks back up to match her gaze, resolve in their eyes.

The queen lets her eyes fall closed, briefly, considering this. They really are seriously offering their blood.

“Partaking of some of your blood would restore a small amount of my power,” the queen affirms, “But it would weaken you, and I cannot tell you by how much.” She must warn them of all the consequences. This is not so simple a decision for them to make. 

“We’re here to ensure your safety, and I think it is a fair decision to make to help you in whatever way we can,” Weiren returns.

She’s uncertain how to feel. Weiren specifically has proven to have useful skills, especially within the last few hours; she is reluctant to weaken them before her enemy has been dealt with, and their companions are sure to have their own opinions on the matter. But it certainly will be beneficial to have enough strength to heal, at least a little bit, her own body. She definitely will be needing to come out of hiding sooner or later tonight to address the nobles of what has occurred. And the ability to defend herself is an enticing one, considering how powerless she is right now. Though, she is uncertain how much that power will truly help in these circumstances.

“I would discuss this amongst your comrades. Your job for tonight is still not done,” she says, finally, “If you make a choice like this, it will hinder your potential until you can recover.” The paladin nods, and turns back to face their friends, who are all ready to express their disapproval. This is their chance to back out. Surely their companions will make them come to their senses.

As expected, the scion protests first.

“This is dangerous,” he says, shaking his head, “we need you to be as ready as you can be for a fight. We can protect her, now.” 

“But the queen was already protected,” the paladin says back, “and someone still managed to get to her! At the very least, she should be able to defend herself.”

The queen dislikes being talked about in such a way, but she allows it, and looks away as the Crystal Concord discusses the situation at hand. How long has it been since she fully drank from a person, beyond them dripping blood from their hands over her unconscious body? This will be the first time in a long while, if Weiren seriously allows the queen to take their blood. Despite her training, she finds herself anticipating it. A warrior, a paladin, no less, of strong physique and magic, offering up their blood to her? Such a thing has not occurred in her experience. It’s unheard of.

“I understand where the rest of you are coming from,” the paladin says, and the queen focuses back on the conversation, as it appears to be coming to some kind of a conclusion. “But I don’t think we should deny her the chance to at least recover and protect herself when we have the power to give that chance to her. Like I said, a queen is already well protected by many, and yet the assailant… Marie… still made it to her.” The queen notes the brief sadness in the paladin’s expression at the mention of Lady Neval. They do appear to be a compassionate one.

“Have you decided, then?” she asks, awaiting their decision.

“Weiren, I think this is a terrible idea,” the scion cuts in, putting a hand on the paladin’s shoulder. The queen barely stops herself from rolling her eyes. “But if you’re going to do it, I won’t let you do it alone.”

_ Yes, of course _ , the queen thinks,  _ that surely is your decision to make _ . She does not need more than a taste from one person, she knows. Probably.

Besides, she would not be foolish enough to weaken yet another one of her assets; Lynne is still not in her best state.

The two argue a little longer as the queen’s patience begins to wear. Both Dormin and Lynne are frowning at each other in the background, also uncomfortable with the conversation. As far as the queen knows, they both expressed a negative opinion just a minute ago, and all three of them are eager to be done with witnessing the debate between the other two.

“I’m not going to lose all my blood, Kainen,” the paladin huffs in response to something that the scion says, “I think,” and the queen glances away, concealing her amusement at the remark from the others. An interesting piece of humor at an equally interesting time. They just keep surprising her.

“If you’re going to do it, then I’m going to do it too. That’s just how it is,” the scion says, though the queen raises a skeptical brow. As if he has any say in the matter. The queen will not take from one who doesn’t actually wish to give.

“Fine, it’s your decision,” Weiren sighs, resigning themself to the scion’s stubborn attitude. “At least it will help strengthen her, and should she need more to protect herself, well…” the paladin trails off as they turn back to the queen, looking uncertain as to how they are supposed to proceed with giving a generous donation of blood to a vampire queen. Interestingly, they send her a nod and lift up their hand towards her, and she barely laughs under her breath. As if she will drink their blood through their wrist. No, of course not. How cute.

Queen Vicouryn keeps herself composed, though she cannot deny the sparks of excitement that come with the prospect of drinking blood after being starved for so long, and she steps forward, exhaling a long sigh. Everyone falls silent as she moves, gliding across the floor in her elegant way. She’s exerting an incredible amount of control, forcing herself to go slow, giving the paladin the time necessary to mentally prepare themself, but she can see how they practically freeze in her proximity. The queen extends a hand to push aside the arm, and they let it drop wordlessly to their side, just allowing everything to happen, unresisting. The brief moment she spends to look into Weiren’s eyes reveals intense anxiety, and she averts her gaze.

Carefully, gently, she places her left hand on the side of the paladin’s head, finding it to be warm, perhaps bordering on hot as the paladin must be experiencing high levels of stress in the moment, but she needs to adjust their pose. She tilts their head to the side to better expose their neck, and she can feel them trembling in a way that almost makes her feel bad for proceeding. But she has their consent, and so she carries on. With her other hand she pulls the collar of the formal jacket to the side, fingers brushing against hot skin. There, this is adequate. Hands still pressed against the paladin’s face and shoulder, she leans forward, baring her fangs. It’s been quite some time since she’s used them for their intended purpose, and they sink into the paladin’s flesh with ease, lips settling down around them.

Weiren jolts, only barely, in response to the bite, but then stills, thankfully. They tilt away from her, as if trying to avoid contact with her head, but it only serves to further press their face into her palm, though the queen is too busy finally drinking blood to take much notice. And not just the vast sums of thin blood from the common people of Mevaden, but the strong, concentrated blood of a powerful warrior. Drinking it in this way is so different, too, from simply absorbing blood magically via a ritual, and it quenches her thirst in a more satisfying way. It feels as if her iron control frays as she drinks Weiren’s blood, taking swallow after swallow. 

She needs it, so much. Her body is still in such pain, but she can already feel it beginning to rebuild itself as she takes the blood. If she takes more, she’ll heal faster still. She’s recharging, power and strength starting to well up inside her. It’s intoxicating.

She steps forward, eyes closing to focus even more, her hands gripping onto the paladin a bit more tightly as she continues to drain them, though she doesn’t really notice her own aggression, still too distracted by the familiar taste of blood, though this blood in particular is quite divine.

The paladin remains motionless, allowing the queen to continue, and she does, her controlled swallows giving way to more frantic gulps. Her training suddenly kicks in, although later than she would have liked, bringing the queen back to awareness, and her eyes fly open, realizing what’s happening. 

_ Damn. _

“Uh-” the paladin says, their throat gently moving with their voice, and the queen growls, shoving Weiren away. No, she can’t lose control. The paladin stumbles back, having to take several steps until they hit the wall behind them. Centuries of focused and rigorous training she may have had, but after so long a time, in such a weakened state, and when presented with a willing target of strong blood, the queen finds it harder to enact her control. She’s disappointed in herself. It is unseemly to succumb to such a thing.

Either way, however, she stops, breathing as she composes herself yet again, wiping away the fresh blood on her face. Her body still craves more, but she has regained her control, and the desire subsides beneath her discipline. 

No longer caught up in the taking of Weiren’s blood, her hands feel strangely cold, after having been pressed against the warm skin of the paladin for the last minute or so. It almost feels as if she misses the contact, but she does not entertain that thought for long, turning instead to face the rest of the Crystal Concord. All three of the other members are eyeing her warily as they support the paladin, Weiren, the foolish paladin who offered their blood to her. They’re still standing, though not without the help of their friends. The scion has a hand on his halberd, no doubt in response to the queen’s actions, but it falls away at her look. She bets he will not be volunteering to give up his blood anytime soon, contrary to his previous claim.

She closes her eyes as her breaths return to normal, and she can feel her body reconstructing itself even faster. It’s still a far cry from the speed at which she heals when at full power, but it’s something, and she will be presentable in less than a half hour. 

“This… is enough,” she says, now fully composed, “A small, small amount of my regenerative ability will shore up this body and keep me in better shape than I was before.” Despite whatever consequences this will have on the paladin, it certainly feels good to be healing, though she still thinks it is a bad decision on their part. 

“Good,” Weiren says, finding their balance, and Vicouryn sees that they don’t regret it at all, which is unfathomable to her. With skin grayer than before and a tremor to their body, they somehow manage to wear a confident expression. She looks away from them, down at her hands, as she massages her palm, finding a bit of strength return to her. There’s no time for her to experience any regret; what’s done is done. The paladin gave their blood, and they will deal with whatever consequences it may bring. The queen hopes that it doesn’t jeopardize the mission. It would be a shame if they fell due to their weakened state.

“This should help put things into perspective for you,” she says, “Whatever rat is trying to kill me, if they are of my kin, they most certainly will not have the self-control that I do. I cannot imagine they are not full of blood. Their ability to heal will be impossibly fast. To kill one of my kind requires skill, preparation, and some amount of luck and intelligence.” She says this, though she still feels a twinge of dissatisfaction when she talks of self-control. She needs even more, considering how she wasn’t too far from taking even more blood from Weiren. The paladin, though foolish, seems to be braver than she thought.

Weiren, now positioned mostly behind their friends, reaches up a hand to their wound, and Vicouryn sees the faint glow of divine magic, but the bite remains, blood still trickling between their fingers. She glances away again.

“Is there anything you can tell us about how to fight one of your kin?” Dormin asks, moving the conversation forward. Right, the queen realizes, the Crystal Concord must now learn how to slay a vampire.

“Every word that I tell you will be giving you secrets. Secrets I have kept for centuries, for my entire life,” she says, slowly and deliberately, impressing the gravity of this knowledge upon them. 

“You… you can trust us,” Weiren says with determination, stepping forward. They’ve readjusted their coat and she can no longer see the marks of her bite. “We’ll do everything we can to protect you, and we’ll find out who’s responsible.”

The queen straightens her back, gazing at this strange, honorable paladin that seems to truly want to help her, and finds that she trusts what they say, for now.


	11. Hunting the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party confronts Varis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sunday night is basically monday morning bc i will forget to post tomorrow

_ The party is allowed a private room to arm themselves and discuss their plans with the queen. Everyone is certain that the beast they are hunting is indeed a vampire, and so Lynne takes the bow and vampire-slaying arrows of Marie Neval for their own use. _

_ Queen Vicouryn informs the party of how to deal with a vampire: a wooden stake to lock them in place, and decapitation to truly put an end to their life. However, vampires often have a second chance when they are mortally wounded: their bodies turn to mist and reform in a resting place where they can quickly recover to full power, so the party must be ready if such an event occurs.  _

_ Finally, after deciding on their next actions, the fully-armed Crystal Concord accompanies the queen back to the banquet hall, where all the nobles are commanded to stay for questioning. Here, the queen and the party ask questions, trying to gather information from the nobles and root out the enemy, and it is here that the nobles learn of the Concord’s true purpose: they are not just political guests, but hired mercenaries for the queen. _

Queen Vicouryn strides into the banquet hall, flanked by six of her trusted royal guards, and followed by her four hired mercenaries: The Crystal Concord. There’s a moment as the nobles stare, wide-eyed, taking in the sight of the queen as well as the four guests, now fully armed and dangerous. No doubt they aren’t expecting the Concord to be working for her in such a way. It appears as if the nobles who’d been afflicted earlier are doing fine now, some guards tending to them, though they all seem to be unharmed otherwise. 

“My subjects, I am sure you heard that someone attempted to take my life this night,” she begins, addressing the crowd, “such is the ever constant curse of rule, I suppose.” She gestures to herself, now fully cleaned and changed into new garments, and she knows she looks as if nothing has even touched her. “As you can see, the assailant has fortunately failed. Maybe it is the Warding Ceremony that kept me safe, but it is certain that I am unharmed. I hope that I did not cause you too much worry.” The queen gives everyone a second to digest these words before continuing. 

“There lies a question, though,” she says, “the one who attempted to kill me; I have been forced to question if the rest of you are in danger of this traitor as well. The one sent to kill me, after all, was merely a tool; a weapon pointed at me from the shadows. It is my responsibility, for Mevaden and for the protection of all the noble houses, that I find the person who was holding the weapon the entire time.” Vicouryn hardens her voice, just a bit, as she speaks, looking across all of the various nobility in the hall. “So, my friends here,” she gestures with an elegant arm towards the Crystal Concord, “as well as I will be asking everyone to remain calm. Stay here, and if possible, be open to some questions, just to make sure that none of you did anything foolish tonight.”

There are several reactions, she can see, among the crowd. Anger, indignation, fear. Lady Fairlight raises a low hand.

“Of course, my Queen, we are relieved to hear that you are unharmed after such a dangerous attempt on your life,” the woman says, “but it makes me wonder if it would not be safer for all of us to be returning to our homes tonight. I’m sure you heard, but others were not so lucky as you, my Queen. My husband was put in danger. Some assailants left many of the other nobles here unconscious and I will confess: I do not feel safe without my own personal guard keeping me and my husband under careful eye.” Lady Fairlight pauses, weighing her next few words before she continues. “It seems that this manor has many dark shadows, where things can go unnoticed. I think that any questioning could be done at a later date, when everything has calmed down a bit more.”

Queen Vicouryn tilts her heads slightly, matching the woman’s gaze.

“Lady Fairlight, I see that your concern for your husband is touching, but I assure you that you will be safe as long as you remain in this banquet hall.” With a hand she motions towards the guards beside her. “My royal guard will be keeping a very close eye on all of you. Your safety is my primary concern, after all.”

“Well,” Lord Kalmire speaks up next, “I must admit that tonight has been rather exhausting. Whatever spell was cast on all of us, I am ashamed to admit I was unable to do anything about it. More research will certainly be required, but keeping us here for questioning, accusing us, is, well, a rather engaged affair, do you not think?” The queen turns her look to him as he pauses briefly. “I would very much like to get home and recheck my magical defenses. I was caught off-guard tonight and I do not wish to be caught off-guard again by some half-baked magical attack.”

Vicouryn makes to reply, but she’s cut off by the sound of a fist hitting a table.

“Queen Vicouryn,” Lady Yelai says, her anger barely contained, “your attempts to pacify us are  _ not  _ going to be working tonight.” The queen lifts her chin, narrowing her eyes. Now of all times, she must entertain backtalk from her nobles? “You say you care for our safety and yet over the past few months I have watched noble son and noble daughter pass away mysteriously, the investigation kept under wraps, any clues found prevented from public eye. It seems to me like you don’t take your noble lives very seriously. I understand, of course, you have to look after yourself, but I think it’s high time some of the nobles are allowed to take this investigation into their own hands and look after their own selves from now on.”

The queen exhales, trying to contain her own rising irritation at this. Now is not the time for this foolishness. She fixes Lady Yelai with an intense, judging stare.

“It seems, Lady Yelai, that you have started to speak out of turn, in your anger,” she begins, drawing out the words, and she can see the woman stiffen, though she does not stand down, “I must admit things have not been going well, these past months, but your words imply that you’re forgetting who you’re talking to. Do I need to remind you that you serve under me?” The venom begins to drip from her voice. These nobles need to know their place. “If you keep barking at me like an angry dog, you  _ will  _ earn my ire, and on tonight of all nights, I assure you that would be a very,  _ very _ poor decision.”

Weakened, starved, and with her life on the line, Queen Vicouryn does not have the patience for this. Unfortunately her threat seems to spark even more commotion, other nobles rising from their chairs and expressing distaste and worry.  _ Damn _ . The queen, too, stays standing, sending dark looks to anyone addressing her.

“My lords and ladies,” Dormin says, and the queen turns to see the half-elf paladin stepping forward, hands gesturing to the crowds. “Presently, we are trying to find the true mastermind behind this attempt on the Queen’s life. In order to properly do that, everyone present must remain here, otherwise potentially important information may slip through the cracks,” he says, trying to assuage the nobles, “and we cannot allow that to happen. Tonight of all nights, we must show everyone that the queen remains strong, and we must also show that those who are innocent, are truly innocent.”

An adequate notion, the queen thinks as she tries to control her own anger, but it is difficult. She’s already gone through far more this night, and the situation is  _ not  _ helping.

“It almost sounds as if your guests are accusing us of being the culprit, Queen Vicouryn. I did not realize you had invited people to hound and investigate us. Turns out these travelers were far more interested in our private affairs than with our culture!” Lord Dolan stands, too, pointing at the Concord with disdain as his voice rises, further escalating the situation. The queen can practically feel her veins bulge as this, and she sends a glare to the lord, who despite his outburst, shrinks back a bit.

“This banter is useless!” Lady Yelai exclaims. “Queen Vicouryn, if you want to find the culprits you should be using  _ force _ . You should be taking people into interrogation and forcing them to talk because I  _ know  _ that someone in the city has killed my beloved! You have not been helping me find them, request after request met with  _ useless  _ reassurances. I don’t think you have what it takes to handle this problem, my queen.” The woman is livid, and it is only serving to further increase the severity of Vicouryn’s newly-formed headache. She can barely believe the nerve. “From the looks of it, you’re a bit tired. Maybe you should be retiring for the night and leave the rest of the investigation in more capable hands.” The noble woman steps forward, closer than anyone would even dare, to the queen, and she feels her hands begin to clench. 

The other nobles continue to chatter, too, some disapproving of Lady Yelai, but all apparently dissatisfied with the queen “allowing” this situation to happen. Normally forcing them all to calm down would be easier, but in her current state…

“Lady Yelai,” a gentle but firm voice speaks, and the queen turns to see Weiren this time, stepping forward too, hands held out and with an earnest expression, “it sounds as if you have been doing your own work in investigating; why not use this knowledge you’ve gained and work with us to help find out who the culprit truly is? At this rate, all of this commotion is just making it easier for whoever it is to sneak away. If we combine our knowledge, I think we can figure out who’s behind everything.” They have a placating but not demeaning tone in their voice, and it somehow calms her down just a bit, too. The queen does not normally use such a gentle method to deal with her nobles; polite force, or just plain verbal force is her usual tactic.

“Yes, a combination of our efforts would most certainly help us root out the true culprit of this mystery. We need as much trustworthy information as we can. We’re not trying to judge and suspect everyone here; we just want to find out the truth,” Dormin adds, backing up Weiren. The two paladins stand side by side as the nobles listen with uncertainty.

“You deserve to know the truth, Lady Yelai. I think we can work together to find it,” Weiren reasons, and they give Yelai an honest expression that seems to startle the woman. Frankly even Vicouryn finds the statement to be somehow  _ too  _ earnest, though she cannot deny it seems to be working. Lady Yelai takes a single step back, looking down as she grips her own hands into tight fists.

“Your words… are  _ truth _ . I just- I just need to make sure that the culprit is dealt with, and time has been wasted, again and again.” The woman is frustrated, Vicouryn sees, and not without reason, but she will not tolerate any more of this. She takes the opportunity given by the paladins.

“You would do best to silence yourself in my presence, Yelai,” she warns as the paladins step back, “I will be personally handling the creature that has infiltrated my own home, hurt  _ me  _ and  _ my  _ guests, and killed  _ my  _ people. If you dare to interrupt this investigation again with your whining, I will make sure you see harsh punishment.” She lets the threat hang there, for just a moment, “But if you can follow my words, rest assured, I am far more adept at hunting than you are.”

Lady Yelai is silent, her hands shaking, but she swallows her pride down, leaning down to give the queen a bow, and Queen Vicouryn feels some of her annoyance dissipate. Finally. With the Crystal Concord’s assistance, the woman ceases her poorly-timed insubordination.

There’s a scream, somewhere behind her, and her recently-tamed anger flares up again as she turns. The room falls silent as her eyes finally land on the source of the commotion.

Two of her royal guards, each with a servant in their grasp and blades held to their throats, stand at the entrance to the banquet. Slight trickles of blood run down their necks as the swords barely cut into their skin, and the queen’s eyes widen as she realizes what’s happening. Each guard wears a strange expression, their eyes dark and serious as they hold the servants as hostages.

They’re enthralled.

There are no words to describe the rage boiling inside of her. Her controlled aura slips, spreading and chilling the space around her as she stares at this scene. She wants to react, so badly, but she cannot risk the lives of her trusted aides. 

The guards proceed, slowly moving closer. They’re sweating and shaking before her, but their enthrallment keeps them going.

“We must ask everyone, please quiet!” One of the guards says, determination in his voice as Queen Vicouryn’s eye twitches. “This investigation has to stop, for now, and everyone must lay their weapons down and we must let everyone leave. My Queen, this is essential. This  _ must  _ happen. If you trust your servants, you must trust my words. This is for the safety of Mevaden!”

A beat passes.

“Nobody is going home right now. These guards are clearly not themselves. You there, guard, who is your allegiance too?” Dormin reacts swiftly, pointing towards the guard.

“My allegiance is the queen, and to the rest of the nobles here!” the guard proclaims, truly believing in his actions. “But you have to trust us, and let us leave now. Otherwise, we’ll have to force you to leave. Queen, the rest of you, open the doors and leave now, before it is too late. There is a dangerous substance in this mansion that is poisoning everyone with every breath you take. Please!”

Queen Vicouryn racks her brain for anything she can do that won’t lead to the death of her people, but the tiefling reacts first.

“Just calm down,” Lynne says, in a nervous but gentle voice, and she moves her hands in a strange motion and chants, and the queen realizes she’s casting a spell. A dim light sprays from the bard’s hands, enveloping the guards. There’s a second as they blink in reaction, and then another as the darkness in their eyes fade. 

_ Ah,  _ the queen thinks,  _ the enthrallment has been suppressed _ . There’s a bit of respect for the tiefling that forms.

The two guards look at each other, confusion in their expressions, and then down at the servants that they’re holding. 

“Stand down and obey your queen,” the scion commands, stepping up, “You’re being magically influenced.” There’s a weight to his words, and the queen can hear an empathetic note in his voice, as she knows he has also been enthralled before.

Their swords drop from their hands, clattering loudly against the polished stone floor, and they push the servants away from them, raising their own hands. A bit of tension leaves the queen as she feels relief.

“I-I don’t know what came over us, but something is wrong,” one of the guards says, her voice shaking. The scion and the half-elf paladin approach the guards carefully. The queen doesn’t have time to address them; instead she sees a motion in the corner of her eye.

“Queen,” there’s a voice, closer though, quiet and urgent, and the queen turns to see the elf paladin approaching, whispering softly, “I believe the person we’re searching for is Lord Varis. He-”

They’re cut off by the sound of footsteps, loud and fast, and the queen whirls around fully to see that Weiren is correct. Lord Varis is sprinting through the crowd, darting and weaving among the other nobles who react in surprise. 

So, it is him. An elf like her. The queen narrows her eyes, tracking his path as he runs, vaulting a table and hurling a shortsword at the window. He’s as dextrous as can be expected from a vampire, but the mercenaries she’s hired take chase.

“Lynne!” Weiren calls out, reacting quickly and entering a run, “the bow!” They tear across the banquet hall at an incredible speed, and the queen notices that the others of the Crystal Concord are all moving as well.

Varis’ blade strikes the glass and cracks appear immediately, shards shattering outwards as he leaps through and into the gardens, but not before a white arrow sails through the air and embeds itself deep into his spine. There’s another second and the queen feels a surge of vigor come over her; the tiefling has drawn a flute and played a short melody, and three of the Crystal Concord seem to speed up with her bardic magic. 

“Someone, arrest that man!” Dormin cries out, charging with his greatsword drawn. The three front-line fighters get close to Varis with the help of Lynne’s magic, but the  _ rat  _ is slippery and quick, dodging attacks and escaping their grasp. The paladin, despite their boost of speed, misses their chance to grab onto the vampire, and instead changes actions, catching something from a toss from Lynne.

The queen turns away from the commotion, barely invigorated by the magic, focusing on the frightened nobles. They’re all panicking. The Concord must handle Lord Varis; she must deal with her people. She catches the sight of a few lords and ladies moving to the door, and she frowns. This will not do.

“Nobody leave,” she commands, projecting her voice as much as she can, and it fills the room. “Stand where you are, or you will be  _ punished _ .” The queen drops her tone to be as deadly as she can manage. She  _ will _ maintain control over her people. 

The nobles freeze in their motions, looking at her with fear, but they cease trying to leave.

_ Good _ . She takes a moment to glance back to see what is occurring with Varis, and she’s briefly taken aback by the sight of Lynne and Weiren sailing out the broken window on a flying carpet, though the other vampire has vanished into the night.

Right. Of course they have something like that in their possession. She shakes her head and turns back to the crowd.

“We must all remain calm; the immediate danger is gone, now,” she addresses them, keeping a comfortable level of ice in her tone, “Lord Varis will be dealt with, but for tonight you must all remain in the manor. My royal guard will protect you; I will take personal responsibility for your safety.”

The nobles shuffle, looking at each other, gauging each other’s reactions, but no one dares disobey the queen anymore. She gives a few instructions to some of her guards and servants, and they begin to handle the crowd, figuring out which rooms are available. A minute or so passes as she splits her attention between the nobles and the window, and finally, after a few more seconds, Dormin and Weiren are climbing in through the broken frame. It is unlikely that the group has managed to slay the vampire quickly, and their expressions are not victorious.

“I assume Varis escaped,” she states, at which Weiren nods solemnly.

“We could not keep up; he transformed into a bat,” they report. Of course.

“Unfortunate,” she returns, though it is about as she expected. “For now, he is remaining in my city, but since he has cast so much suspicion on himself, I doubt he will remain here for long. If we do not stop him from fleeing the city, then we will not be able to safely ensure he has been dealt with for the future.”

“Um, we do have an idea of where he may have gone. It seems that the building we discovered earlier may contain his resting place, and we did deal a significant amount of damage,” Weiren points out. That is hopeful news, the queen thinks. If it truly is Varis’ resting place, then the Crystal Concord may be able to deal with him yet. 

They better. 

Kainen and Lynne arrive next, dismounting from the carpet, also with the same dissatisfied expressions as the others.

“If the raven trainers can keep an eye out, that might help us find him if he attempts to escape the city in his bat form,” Weiren points out next, thinking.

“We can try and keep an eye on the night sky, but it is difficult,” the queen answers, “Lord Varis, being a shapeshifter, does not have to remain in that form. He must have other forms he can adopt. Most likely, if he  _ is _ attempting to make an escape, there are things he will be trying to take out of the city. One final move, either from his home or from one of his many bases of operation in Mevaden. I can attempt to track his whereabouts, alert the guards in all districts in the city, but other than that I am powerless to pursue him in my preferred means at the moment.”

If only she wasn’t so weak right now. It’s annoying, but she has to trust in these four.

“We did deal a significant amount of damage… it’s possible he returned to his lair to recover,” Kainen says.

“If… he is what we believe he is,” the queen returns, choosing her words carefully, “then his being left alone for even just a few minutes will have restored him to his full strength already. That is the true power of what we are dealing with when it is not hindered.” It is unfortunate; Varis will most likely have recovered from everything that the Concord has thrown at him by now.

“Well, there is no time to waste. If he’s trying to flee the city, then we have to act now,” Dormin says, firmly.

“If you have indeed found his resting place, you may very well find him there. That is, if he hasn’t returned to his personal manor,” the queen replies. It’s hard to gauge where exactly Varis will retreat to, and she doesn’t know how many bases of operations he may have in the city. As the one in charge of infrastructure, he must certainly have several.

“I think we should go back to that building as quickly as he can. I… doubt he will return to his home, not after throwing so much suspicion on himself,” Weiren figures, and the queen nods. Fairly insightful.

“Unfortunately, we can’t be sure where he goes; there’s no time to investigate. We’ll just have to take a chance,” the scion sighs, and the other members of the Concord nod their heads.

“You’re right. Let us return to the building; I think that’s the most likely of our options,” Weiren returns, deciding. They’re a bit more assertive in this planning than the queen expects them to be; again belying their meek appearance.

“We should probably have as much help as we can to deal with him,” Dormin cuts in, “Your majesty, if there’s any hands you have available that are ready to go now, we would have them.”

That may be helpful, though the queen is loath to send her guards to certain doom. These adventurers are a cut above the simple guard, and Varis may tear them to pieces.

“I.. can send a few of my royal guards, but, if you give me time to settle my housing order, I might…” she pauses, figuring out the best way to express this, “I will attend as well, to make sure that he is properly finished and dealt with.” Weak as she may be, it would be very good to witness Varis’ end, and perhaps get a bit of information out of him before his demise.

She would also not be averse to draining him until there was nothing left of the lord but a withered husk. Drinking another vampire may strengthen her abilities.

“How much time would you need?” The scion inquires, looking skeptical.

“I simply need to send the nobles to their rooms and make sure none leave until this situation is settled,” the queen replies, and finds she really does want to pursue the rat alongside the Concord. It is frustrating to be bogged down by her queenly duties and these reckless nobles.

“I… we should probably go on ahead,” the scion counters, but not in a challenging fashion, although she does not like the response.

“At the very least we can scout the location prior to your arrival,” Weiren suggests, figuring out a compromise, “It might be good for you to, um, dress down to be inconspicuous when on the streets.”

At this, the queen feels a sense of indignation. As if an outsider knows better than her how she should act in Mevaden.

“I know how to handle myself in my own city,” she says, slowly, and the paladin blinks, not realizing exactly the implications of them trying to tell the queen what to do. An embarrassed flush rises in their cheeks at her comment.

“Oh, okay,” they say, quietly, assertion from their tactical planning quickly giving way to reservation, “My apologies, your majesty.” Clearly they do lack a certain knowledge of etiquette when talking to royalty, but at least they appear to know how to deal with their missteps. It’s… an interesting sight to see the change in their behavior. They’ve been…  _ kind  _ and  _ considerate _ to her, perhaps more than one would normally expect from a mercenary and their employer, and are very tentative about offending her, though not too much, as they’ve also dared to ask questions and seek information from her. It’s a refreshing balance in their personality.

The queen realizes a beat too long has passed in her brief thoughts, and she sighs, calmly, breathing out through her nose to focus.

“Go now,” she says, “I can send four of my royal guards with you if necessary, but do take care of them. In the face of a force like Lord Varis, they will prove rather... fragile.” She isn’t sure how much assistance the Crystal Concord will need, but extra arms may prove necessary.

“Um, but,” Weiren speaks up, now avoiding her eye contact and instead looking to their friends, “isn’t it possible that they may be turned against us?”

Ah.

That is a good point.

“I don’t think we know enough about this ability of his, unfortunately,” Kainen answers, brows drawing together in concern.

“I… don’t think we should bring anyone else, not any royal guards. It’s too dangerous for them as well as for us. We don’t know if Varis will sway them,” Weiren expresses, “I think the four of us now should make our way to the building, and hopefully, you, uh, your majesty, can arrive whenever ready,”

After their misstep, Vicouryn can practically hear them tiptoe around the words, making sure not to imply anything. In another situation, she would laugh under her breath, but she keeps her expression locked down. It is also good to hear she won’t be throwing her guards directly at death’s door, but she wonders if the Concord will find themselves there instead.

“Then you all must be off. Go. Find Varis and deal with him. I will handle my own business here until I can come later. I will bring some guards, as well,” the queen says with finality, “I hope I will not be disappointed.”

There’s a moment of tension as the Concord hears her words.

“Alright,” Dormin nods, straightening his back, “Let’s go. We will see you in a bit, your majesty.” 

“Be safe,” Weiren says. The queen inclines her head to acknowledge them, and the four adventurers turn to leave.

_ Be safe _ , the paladin says, though the queen feels as if the sentiment should be directed at them, not her. After all, the four of them are hunting down a dangerous vampire who will most certainly be at his full strength and in his own lair. 

The chances are not good for them.

***

The building serving as Varis’ base is quiet when the queen finally arrives with her guards. Handling the nobles and their rooms took longer than she wanted, and she isn’t sure what she’ll find inside. Was the Crystal Concord victorious? Or will she find their drained corpses strewn across the ground, the vampire Lord Varis long gone? It’s uncertain. The party did not enter this fight in their best state, she knows; Lynne and Weiren were partially drained of their vitality, and she witnessed that same paladin cast several spells just before the encounter. 

She closes her eyes, briefly, and steels herself. 

The queen steps forward, pushing through the doors of the manor. She will deal with whatever lies inside, no matter what she finds. 

The scent of blood is nearly overwhelming, and she forces herself to ignore it. She strides through the foyer, passing through the halls until she makes her way to a study, where the crimson streaks the floor.

But, fortunately, here is where she finds the Crystal Concord, in varying stages of injury, awaiting her arrival in a room that looks as if an earthquake tore through it. This bodes well, though, that they are alive, and just resting. The half-elf paladin and the Ashanan scion look to be in the worst shape, both either sitting or lying down, unable to keep themselves standing and faces white as a sheet. She can see several dark stains on their necks; it seems Varis has managed to grab a taste from them both, and not just once. The bard is sitting next to the half-elf, nursing a few scrapes of her own but mostly checking over Dormin, seemingly in better condition. 

Lastly, Weiren, the elf paladin, stands by the scion, and though their armor is slick with red, they don’t appear to be that wounded at all. Somewhere there’s the slightest sense of relief in the back of her head, that her taking of their blood hadn’t caused their death, but she brushes the thought aside.

At the queen’s arrival, the Concord looks to her.

“This time, it does appear that the job has been finished. Is Varis dealt with?” She asks, keeping her voice low and calm. Perhaps he’s been staked and ready for her to deal with. Weiren is the one who reacts first, nodding their head.

“He’s downstairs,” the scion says, weakly, and it’s such a stark contrast to the usual demeanor she’s come to expect that she’s briefly surprised, “He’s been taken care of, but perhaps it’s best if you make sure it’s truly over.” He gestures to the other side of the study, where a door has been forced open and left ajar, revealing stone steps stained red leading down deeper into the building. The blood is even thicker in the passageway, dripping down the steps and rolling down the walls. It’s a macabre sight, but it does not faze her.

“I will go see,” she returns, and motions for her guards to stay up here while she ventures down, gesturing for the Crystal Concord. Weiren moves to follow, and Lynne stands too, but then looks back at her two companions and thinks better of it. They may be stable, for now, but they are in no condition to be left alone, it appears. No matter, her words can be passed on by the paladin. 

“I’ll go, you should all rest here,” Weiren says, giving the three others a resolute nod. The queen does not observe the reactions of the three, merely turning away to carry on.

She descends the stairs, careful to avoid touching the blood-soaked walls, and she can hear her own steps against the wet stone; slipping is a danger here, but she is mindful. Slightly offset is the sound of Weiren’s footsteps, louder from their armored boots. She’s, for some reason, more aware of their presence than she normally would be, perhaps because the rest of their friends remain upstairs.

“Is everything back at the manor alright?” Weiren asks quietly.

“Everything is dealt with,” Queen Vicouryn answers professionally, and there’s silence until they reach the end of the stairs. Down here she finds what would have been a rather luxurious lounge, but furniture has been destroyed and splintered from what must have been a furious battle, and there is still even more blood splattered across the carpet. Beyond the debris, there’s a single other door, a large, reinforced metal one, but it’s been battered and crushed and forced open, most likely by the brute strength of the several melee fighters of the Crystal Concord.

She heads inside.

There’s a coffin placed in the center of the room, ornate and sturdy, but the lid has been pushed aside. Approaching closer reveals nothing but a wooden stake buried in ashes.

So he has been finished, for good. The queen purses her lips, thinking. It is indeed fortunate to know Lord Varis has met his end, properly, though she wishes she could have arrived earlier, perhaps, and had a word or two with him. Ah well. What’s done is done.

“Good,” she says after a few seconds, “Then it seems that the largest and most difficult rat in Mevaden has finally been killed. It seems I did well asking you for this favor.” Weiren doesn’t reply in the next moment, and so she continues.

“It’s a shame, though,” she adds, “I was hoping I would be able to talk to this fool myself, but perhaps it’s better for him that he has been dealt with so mercifully.”

“He… was quite a force. We didn’t want to take any chances,” the paladin replies apologetically, a subtle amount of shame in their voice, as if they were feeling bad that they’d slain Varis before allowing the queen a chance to deal with him. As if they were feeling bad that they’d somehow disappointed  _ her _ . Hm. 

“I understand. Let us return to your friends so that I may address them,” the queen says, turning to ascend back up the stairs, “I have a few things that they should all hear.” The paladin nods silently, and allows the queen to pass by and proceed before them, keeping their eyes down. Their submissive behavior is a bit pitiful to her, but there’s a part of her that finds it endearing. She wonders how far it goes. Is it just because of her? They were much more forward in dealing with Varis up until Vicouryn talked down to them.

“Do not worry,” she adds, as she steps past them, “Weiren. I do not bear any animosity towards you; you and your friends have done well.” There’s a brief pause, as she considers saying more. “It… is good to know that your  _ sacrifice  _ did not hinder your efforts in dealing with Lord Varis.” It is the least she can offer, after taking much of their blood, though she does not look back to see any reaction, focusing on looking forward. A small amount of courtesy should be fine to give, if only to get them to stop acting so subservient.

A small voice tells her that she could have taken more, and the scent of blood seems to get even stronger. Actually, she realizes, she could take more  _ now _ , if she really wanted. Weak as she may be, it would not be difficult to back the paladin up against the wall and take what she pleased. She wonders if they would even resist. Somewhere she suspects that they wouldn’t, especially not with their current demeanor.

“I…” The voice behind her comes softly, uncertain, “thank you, your majesty,” they finally say, settling on a safe expression of gratitude. The queen forces her unseemly thoughts away, focusing her mind. She will not lose herself to her beastly urges.

The two of them ascend the stairs together back to the study, where the rest of the Weiren’s friends still await. The queen raises a hand to the guards, and they salute and file out of the door, leaving the room to just the queen and the Crystal Concord.

“You have all done well,” she begins, “and you have finished the job. More difficult than I had envisioned, and in as good of a fashion as I could have hoped.” The weakened paladin and scion adjust their posture to give her their attention, but they are still quite a sorry state. She turns to face Weiren, as they’re the one still standing and able to pay the most attention. “I imagine most of your friends need quite the rest. You will be rewarded and remembered as the ones that slayed the beast in Mevaden and ended its reign of terror. But,” she pauses, sweeping her eyes across them all, “as I’m sure more importantly you wish to hear, as soon as I am able, I will be making my way west to meet with the other young fool kings and discuss this alliance proper.”

There’s an apparent relief in the room, as the adventurers share looks with each other, a sense of achievement, and she carries on.

“You will not speak of what happened here to anyone outside of this room, and you will not tell anyone of my plans to head west until I have chosen to speak of it myself,” she states, sharpening her gaze briefly, though she does not worry too much. Mostly. “In any note, you have done well, and I must admit that I am rather curious where your steps will take you next. Of course,” she pauses, “you have no obligation to tell me. Our contract is complete, but I imagine that people as strong as you all will be ones I will have to keep my eye on from now on.” They do now own the knowledge of how to deal with a vampire, and have successfully slain one of full power.

“We will be happy to discuss our future with you later, if you would like, but for now, let’s get those of us who need it some rest so that they may recover,” Weiren says, sending a worried glance to their weakened friends. Another sign of their open compassion.

“Go, and rest. The banquet will continue without you,” the queen says, softening her voice ever so slightly. She does hold much gratitude for their services, and they will be compensated fairly. “Tomorrow, the Blood Vow will be complete, and after that, I will hold an audience and reward you officially as the ones who not only slayed the beast but killed its master, the traitorous Lord Varis, the one who had led this creature into the city and caused so much harm for his own selfish needs. That will be the story we’ll tell.”

This should cover everything necessary. Her warning is plain, but she does not believe the Crystal Concord will be spilling any secrets anytime soon. The group seems to be working for the good of Doluum as a whole, and they did help her even after discovering her true nature. At most, Dormin seems to be conflicted, but he will most certainly not jeopardize the Doluum Alliance over it. She allows the adventurers to digest her words for another few moments, before turning to depart.

“Rest well, Crystal Concord,” she says, in finality, “Tomorrow is a very special day.” 

“A good night to you, your majesty,” Weiren calls out.

She nods, and with that, she exits the study, rejoining her guards. She must let them rest.

As she leaves the Crystal Concord behind, stepping back out into the cool night air, she thinks. Although the air is no longer suffused with the scent of iron, she can recall the taste of a certain paladin’s blood on her tongue. No longer caught up with recovering from horrible injuries or dealing with a murderous enemy, there’s more room left to think of other things. She glances down, flexing her palm beneath her cloak.

It was... pleasant, she won’t deny, to touch, briefly, the paladin, just a couple of hours ago. It is not often she allows anyone physical contact with her. Partaking in their blood allowed her that short and rare moment; the warmth of life in her hands in addition to strong blood on her fangs. It was… appealing. The prospect is  _ still  _ appealing. There isn’t a chance for something like this to occur again, is there? There are not many powerful adventurers who offer up their vitality to a bloodthirsty monster like her. Perhaps there’s something in it that they desire, too.

The queen continues walking, lifting her chin to gaze up at the full moon.

Perhaps she does not require their blood anymore, in any reasonable manner, but is there any harm in requesting a little more? Especially when there’s a chance that the reserved paladin may be receptive to such an offer...

Tomorrow night will be when she returns to her full power, taking in the vitality of all of her people. After that, there will not be any reason for her to indulge in strong blood for a second time, will there?


	12. Tales of Kandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Separated from Queen Vicouryn, Weiren's journey continues in a dangerous land to the north.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a chunky one w a lot of campaign lore jsyk but weiren does a lotta thinking abt viccy

_ After having successfully slain Lord Varis for the queen of Mevaden, the Crystal Concord heads north to the rugged wilds of the Lordships of Kandor, a vassal country under the control of Sheokar, a neighboring empire to the east. Weiren seeks the knowledge of the mysterious Druids of the Fargrove that reside there, and Kainen’s mother as well as another scion of Ashana are at risk of the Brauven Empire in the northernmost city of Kandor: Talgrad. The party must cross into Kandor at the Southern Gate and find a way to meet the druids and rescue Kainen’s family. _

_ Along the journey, Weiren puts the quill gifted to them from Queen Vicouryn to good use, and spends time recording much of their adventures. _

***

_ 11/7 _

_ Today we arrived at the Southern Gate and finally crossed into Kandor. Last night we met a man, Thoris, and his nephew, Erikor, traveling in the opposite direction and shared a campsite. It seems Erikor was afflicted with something called the mindblight, but I have never heard of such a thing. Dormin and I tried various divine magic to see if we could perhaps do something, but nothing helped. _

_ Later that evening Kainen decided to throw himself into danger again. There were wild hippogriffs in the sky, and he took the carpet to meet them. I suppose it makes sense he’d be concerned as Ashana was known for their domestication of hippogriffs, but he nearly died (again). I have made quite the effort to keep him alive since the incident, but he just keeps running headlong into danger. Dormin was furious. I was upset, too, but I also can’t fault him. There’s been… plenty of times when I would act recklessly, too. _

_ But it’s different. He’s a scion of Ashana and we’re out to save his people. There are countless people depending on him, and he’s a leader. His life is more valuable. _

_ After the night passed, we traveled for the rest of the day until we found the Southern Gate. We asked for maps and resources, since Kandor’s safe paths are always changing depending on the dangerous monsters that roam its land. Eventually, however, we decided it would be safest to hire a slayer to help guide us. Kandor has two official groups known as the Keepers and the Slayers. Keepers are the lawkeepers of the land, bearing red cloaks, and Slayers are the ones dedicated to dealing with the various beasts by traversing the land, bearing brown ones. Not only do they fight monsters, but the information they gather with regards to the whereabouts of such creatures and their hunting grounds is crucial for the common folk; maps must be often updated with new slayer information so that people can take the safest paths. _

_ There were a few slayers at this inn. Two in particular were not quite the sort of people we were looking for, I believe their names were Laine and Kaleel. It seemed they were eager to get as much money out of us as possible, and Laine especially seemed to delight in upsetting the others. Unpleasant people to be around, so we did not hire them. _

_ Fortunately for us, another slayer showed up: Dejak, a minotaur. I’ve never seen one of his kind before. Laine apparently knew him; she made some sort of a mean remark, though it seems typical of her to do such a thing for anyone she might know. He was very forthright and fair with our questions, and agreed to help lead us north to Talgrad, in exchange for our assistance in completing a slayer quest. Furthermore, I learned that much of Kandor is not happy with the Druids of the Fargrove, for whatever reason, but I still must try to find them. _

_ *** _

_ 11/11 _

_ We’ve arrived in Keld. Traveling in Kandor is exhausting. Even with Dejak’s help we encountered several monsters, and Dormin nearly got eaten by a gigantic crocodile. There were no defined paths in the forest, just wild brush and swampland that we had to get through. I miss the days of traveling on a guarded road, but I suppose there is something interesting about being in such an untamed wild land.  _

_ We asked around and found a blacksmith with some equipment. There were even some magical items, some of which would be very useful for the party to have, but we’d already spent much of the gold from Mevaden on other supplies, and the prices were high. Thank Celaste Moren for Lynne. She managed to talk to the person selling the items, the apprentice of the smith, and bargained down the price by a significant amount, though it came at the cost of- _

“Lynne, do you want us to like, leave? Like, go upstairs or something?” Kainen asks, bringing Weiren back to the present. Right. Now’s not the time to be writing in their journal. Rather, maybe there’s something in that novel they’ve been carrying around that might help in this situation. 

“There’s only one tavern, Kainen,” Weiren points out as they swap out their writing materials for a worn book that they’ve had since Vangath. A romance novel, to be specific, though they haven’t had time to finish it. They’ve been occupied with… other things.

But yes. Lynne agreed to go on a date with Rhuson Willons, the apprentice blacksmith of the Silver Warden.

Weiren feels mildly conflicted about it. Five hundred gold for a date with Lynne, though she is quite a catch, seems a little… extreme? As far as Weiren knows, the four of them and Dejak will be leaving Keld behind in a couple of days, and they probably won’t ever see Rhuson again. And Rhuson’s a nice man, though pretty young, and they aren’t sure how kindly his master will take to such a hefty discount given without his permission.

But Weiren can’t argue with the benefit there is for their group. Dormin’s been trying to save up to get plate armor, which is incredibly pricey, but he as well as the party still had to contribute to getting these magic items; none of them alone could have afforded the purchase. Still, though, they feel a little bad for Rhuson. At least having a date with Lynne will surely be a great time for him; she’s very attractive and confident. Weiren wouldn’t be surprised if Lynne has plenty of experience with romance.

Weiren flips through the book curiously while Lynne and Kainen talk, refreshing their memory of it. They don’t think Lynne needs any assistance, but maybe some humor will lighten the awkward tension at the table. Weiren doesn’t know what to think of Dormin’s sour attitude; the paladin is looking away and abstaining from the conversation as much as possible.

“You know, Lynne,” they start, finding a particularly juicy page, “it looks like in this part, they do something where one of them puts the other against a wall, and puts a hand next to their head. Apparently, it’s very romantic,” they say, half joking, but as they say it they can’t help but imagine Queen Vicouryn backing them up against a wall. Oh, no, don’t think about that now. It’s only been, what, like five days? Six days? Five, they think, since they left Mevaden, and they’ve been painfully aware of the lack of secret meetings during the night with every day that passes. By now their neck has fully healed, and the only real reminder of what transpired in Mevaden is the black quill they’ve just tucked safely back inside their pouch.

“Have you done that before?” Kainen asks, genuinely wondering, “or uh, has someone done that to you?”

Weiren’s curious too; is it actually a common occurrence for people in relationships? They look to see Lynne’s answer.

The tiefling folds her hands and gives the scion a look.

“You seem quite curious about all this, Kainen. Have you not been on any dates yourself?” She asks, turning the conversation onto him. Weiren isn’t actually sure what to assume about Kainen. The scion is young and likeable, so it makes sense that he’s perhaps had an admirer or two.

Contrary to this thought, Kainen freezes, as if stunned by the question, and Weiren blinks. Guess they’re wrong.

“I, uh. Um… no,” he stutters, “I haven’t. I had a pretty busy upbringing, you know. That kind of thing, it’s… not something I’ve even really thought of.” He looks away from Lynne, a bashful tone to his voice, but then he turns to Weiren, pointing at their book. Uh oh. “What about you, Weiren? You’re the one that carries around a book like this,  _ and  _ you’ve got to be older than the rest of us! Surely you know a thing or two!”

Weiren sweats at the attention. As a matter of fact, they carry such a book around  _ because  _ they lack experience in such a subject, and they aren’t that much older than their party, they’re pretty sure. They’re no ancient elf with centuries of secret knowledge, just a young one still trying to learn about the world.

“I… did harbor feelings for someone at one point in time,” they confess, briefly thinking back to their former years in Vangath, but the memory is not so sweet. “It didn’t go anywhere. I’d say I’m as inexperienced as you.” Weiren rubs at the side of their neck nervously. The only other experience that might be relevant is whatever relationship they seem to have with the queen, but it’s not like they’re dating, and they would rather die than admit that to their friends. Dormin would probably smite them on the spot.

Although, a certain tiefling already has her suspicions. Weiren peeks briefly at Lynne, and is terrified to see a subtle raised eyebrow directed at them.

They look away.

Thankfully, Kainen keeps up the conversation, gesturing for Dormin’s attention. Seems like they’ll get to learn about everyone tonight.

“What?” Dormin says with a curt voice, clearly not wanting to interact. Ouch. Kainen is taken aback, but his desire to know is too much.

“I was just curious to know if you’d been on any dates before? The rest of us were sharing our own experiences, or uh, lack thereof.” Kainen manages a timid laugh, but shifts away from Dormin a bit, weary of the paladin’s perceived anger. Weiren can’t really pinpoint the source of Dormin’s mood, but they wonder if perhaps he wishes that he had a date tonight, too. 

“I have dated before,” he says after a long sigh, “but it ended some time ago. I don’t believe that I’m qualified to weigh in on any sort of discussion.” He turns away from the table again after replying.

That is pretty surprising to Weiren. Similar to Lynne, Dormin has a fairly noble demeanor, and the looks to go along with it. He’s practically the exact image one would think up at the thought of a brave paladin: strong, charming, inspiring, and a natural-born leader. Quite a far cry away from Weiren, who dislikes high society, lacks proper etiquette, and tries to fade into the background at times, though they’ve had to step forward more frequently to help the Crystal Concord accomplish their goals. They really expected him to have some kind of sweetheart at home, or something like that. But also, they suppose, Dormin has been shown to have quite a temper at times.

“Well, it seems that among us you have the most experience in these matters,” Weiren says, trying to move on from Dormin’s gruff response, “I guess we’re not much help at giving advice, but I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Enlightening as all of this is, I think that you will probably be best off doing what you normally do,” Dormin huffs, “it’s worked well for you thus far.” 

Weiren eyes the other paladin with uncertainty as he addresses Lynne. They haven’t seen Dormin act in such a way before. There’s a slight reddish tinge to the tips of ears, and it reinforces their previous theory: Dormin must be jealous of Lynne having a date. He probably wants to spend the night with someone, too, after adventuring for so long without much respite. Weiren feels some sympathy for him; after all, they’re a little jealous, too. It seems so easy for other people to meet up and spend time together, but it always feels like something far out of their reach. They wish they could maybe share another moment with Vicouryn, though of course it’s different since it’s not romance or anything, but still.

Besides, the queen is back in Doluum, working with the other kings hopefully, to strengthen the alliance. She has no time and has other things to do. It will have to be enough to simply remember the past meetings until the party returns to Doluum as well, if such a thing even occurs. Who knows if they’ll all just perish in Kandor? And even if they do make it back to Doluum, there’s no guarantee Vicouryn will still want to keep meeting with them. Things change when people are apart. Things change even when people are together.

Well, back to the matter at hand. They should be helping Lynne in whatever way they can.

“Is there anything you might need? Any supplies?” They ask. Plenty of stories tell of extensive preparation prior to romantic dates, such as the purchase of perfume or accessories, or perhaps an appointment at a bathhouse. Does Lynne do such things before going out with a potential romantic partner? 

“Oh! Oh. Uh…” Kainen exclaims, face immediately flushing red at their words, and they feel like they’ve made a grave mistake. “Should we be getting different rooms, or…?”

Weiren’s eyes open wide as they realize his misunderstanding and they frantically shake their head, raising up their hands. “I-I didn’t mean- just. Sometimes people put on makeup or stuff, or, you know, get nice clothes. That’s… that’s what happened in… there was a shopping chapter…” The paladin trails off, flustered, and they’re kind of terrified to see how Lynne’s reacting to all of this.

“Oh, that’s what you were talking about,” Kainen says in relief, “But, still though, do you think we should get a different room?” It is a good question, to be fair. Who knows how Lynne’s date will end? 

There’s a silence at the table for a good solid moment.

“I'll go get another room,” The scion declares without hearing an answer, and marches off to the barkeep with purpose, where a large cluster of incense continues to burn on the counter.

“Um, did you actually want a separate room? I can probably stop him, if you want,” Weiren offers, brows drawn in concern, but it’s practically too late by now.

“I’d like my own room regardless of how things end up,” Lynne answers, sighing, “I’ve had a long day, and I wouldn’t mind it if I could spend a night by myself for once.”

Weiren understands. They’d probably want the same thing, too.

When the scion returns, sneezing on his way back, he places a new room key down on the table for Lynne.

“He, um, he says he doesn’t want to uh, to deal with too much cleanup,” Kainen says, and Weiren stares. What did he even say to the barkeep? What have they done? Lynne must be mortified. They try to avoid her gaze, adequately embarrassed at the misunderstanding they caused.

Thankfully, this particular line of conversation ends. The door to the tavern swings open, and there’s a heavy series of thuds as Dejak, the minotaur slayer, returns from a trip to the slayer headquarters. The talk turns to business as he reports the information he gathered and the party figures out what to do next. Similarly to Mevaden, there’s a mysterious entity coupled with strange disappearances somewhere near Keld, and just as similarly, people have taken to calling it the beast. Weiren prays it is not somehow a reincarnated Lord Varis running around unchecked. Previous information gathered seems to point to a different culprit, thankfully. 

This is the quest that the Crystal Concord has agreed to help Dejak with in exchange for his guidance. It’s no small quest, though. This monster has killed every slayer that set out to deal with it, so much that the bounty lies at three-thousand gold, even more than the party was awarded for helping out a queen. Apparently it can take on the shape of a man, even one bearing the brown mantle of a Slayer.

After discussing their next plans, Dejak gets up to get some food and drink, and there’s a period of time where everyone’s just waiting for Rhuson to show up. The entire party is just so focused on that event; it’s unlike any experience the four of them have shared before. It’s made even more prominent because it seems that three out of the four party members have incredibly little experience.

Weiren’s mind wanders back to the Queen of Mevaden again. Even if there is no possibility of it ever happening, what would a date with her even look like? They can barely imagine her outside of a fancy castle let alone outside in broad daylight. Would she even be able to walk around outside with the sun out? And where could they even go? This would have to be some serious kind of alternate world where people wouldn’t care that she’s a queen, because going out to any place in public and accompanying a queen would lead to many eyes and many rumors.

Though, there have been many a novel in which royalty snuck out in disguise to pursue some adventure or romantic encounter.

If they were going to meet up for dinner or something- hold on, she doesn’t… she probably doesn’t even enjoy eating normal food. Weiren rubs their forehead; it really seems like a completely impossible scenario. 

What do business partners even do to strengthen a relationship like that? They’re completely stumped. Besides, there’s something that they like about the whole thing being discreet. They’d rather not entertain any sort of questions of attention regarding their relationship with Vicouryn. Any kind of date would have to be incredibly private, and in the dark of the night. At most they can vaguely picture a walk in some gardens or woods, perhaps sitting by a lake, but they still are having trouble picturing the queen partaking in any of that. They only ever see her in ornate gowns in gothic furniture, surrounded by attendants and almost always inside buildings.

Not to say that this would be a romantic date, they reiterate to themself. Just that it appears that they and she spend time together, and that it is mutually beneficial, and perhaps it would be nice to have a change in scenery, or something beyond just reaching out for each other’s touch. It would be like a sign of gratitude from them to her? Maybe? 

Like it matters, though. Weiren will probably never suggest such a thing, because they severely doubt the queen would ever be interested in that. 

Instead, Weiren focuses on the glass of water in their hand. Of course, there’s nothing to think about beyond their current relationship. They’re lucky enough to have even gotten to where they are now, and there’s no sense in wishing for more and risking jeopardizing it.

***

_ Thank Celaste Moren for Lynne. She managed to talk to the person selling the items, the apprentice of the smith, and bargained down the price by a significant amount, though it came at the cost of a date with him.  _

_ I can’t believe how much I misread other people’s feelings over this. Dormin was upset, not because he was also wishing for a date, but because he perhaps disliked Rhuson or was worried for Lynne. Rhuson had no malicious intent, he was on his very first date and trying his best to make a good impression. I really am awful at this whole romance thing, and I wasn’t even the one involved in the date. _

_ After some time passed, Kainen and I persuaded Dormin to leave the tavern and spar with us, hoping that getting him away from Rhuson would calm his nerves. Thankfully, it did, but Lynne magically sent a message to me claiming that an aggressive man showed up at the tavern and got violent. Of course this all happened right after I suggested leaving. We hurried back to the tavern, but the man was nowhere to be found, and he’s quite likely to have been the beast that we’re searching for.  _

_ We went out to investigate and found some sure signs of the beast. Some bodies, and strange, dark, ritual materials. Whatever this creature is has been tearing out hearts and doing something to them, putting charms and iron stakes into them and mounting them up on trees. They’re desecrating the ground, somehow. _

_ We were unable to track the man, as he ran into the forest, which is too dangerous to explore at night. _

_ Tomorrow morning, we will investigate further. _

_ *** _

_ 11/12 _

_ Somehow, we did it. We defeated the monster that was threatening Keld. Long story short, we investigated for much of the day, gathering information from various people and setting up a plan. We also hired a couple of slayers to go out to one of the nearby lumber camps, where the beast had struck previously, to scout it out and return with any relevant information. _

_ I didn’t like the plan we came up with, but we decided to have someone act as bait to lure the beast out, while Dejak and another hid nearby. One of us would wait at the tavern to get the new information from the slayers we hired, and the other would wait alongside them with the flying carpet, ready to take off immediately afterwards. _

_ Somehow, as it happens so often, Kainen was once again the one in the most dangerous position: the bait.  _

_ After the slayers came back to report their information, Dormin and I set out to meet the others. Lynne messaged me, letting us know that the beast did show up and fall for our trap, but certainly Kainen, Lynne and Dejak were all in danger. _

_ We showed up in time, but the fight was awful. The man was overtaken by some sort of beastly form and had several wolf companions. He had some strange ability that affected our minds, forcing some of us to attack each other or wander off in random directions. It even made Lynne walk off the flying carpet. _

_ Eventually, we succeeded. According to Dejak, this must have been a man who slayed a vengeful forest spirit without taking the proper precautions, and was then overcome with the corrupted natural influence. He had a strange necklace of animal teeth and claws; Dejak said that the claw was most likely the trophy of a forest spirit. There is a lot to the history of Kandor, and war has destroyed and corrupted the magic of the forest, leading to the monstrous abominations in the land such as this one. _

_ This necklace is intriguing. There’s something about it. Perhaps the forest spirits have further connections to the ley lines or even beyond. We have no other leads to find the Druids of the Fargrove; this is the only possible clue. I intend to find out if it can lead us to them. _

Weiren closes the notebook and sneaks a glance across the room, where Kainen is soundly asleep. Good.

They blow out the candle, extinguishing the flame, and move towards their bed, necklace in hand. Certainly their comrades would disapprove of this, but that’s precisely why they aren’t telling anyone. Weiren places the necklace over their head, feeling the weight of the claw settle on their chest. Nothing seems to change, unfortunately. They can’t even use their magic to try and probe it; they’re completely tapped of their energy. They’ll try tomorrow, but for now...

They breathe, slowly, and sit upright on the bed, finding a comfortable position, and they wait. 

***

_ Weiren isn’t sure when the whispers start. Soft and fleeting, from beyond the walls, unintelligible. The air weighs more heavily on their shoulders until it’s overwhelming. Sweat beads on the back of their neck, discomfort growing in their chest. Their eyes open to the raging flames of a burning forest, trees turning to smoke and choking their breath. Pain, anger, loss, and still, the whispers continue, growing louder. _

_ The scenery flows and changes, and suddenly the fire is that of Gishal, airships raining destruction down upon the city as Weiren and their friends run for their lives. A second later and the image blinks; they are running no more. Weiren lies dead on the ground, crushed under debris and blood spilling from their mouth. To the side, Lynne is crumpled and unmoving, eyes glazed and lifeless. Kainen is next, torso impaled on a wooden beam, hanging limp. Dormin’s corpse is aflame, heat licking at his cloak as it eats away at his body. _

_ Beyond them all, Dawson of Emberdale is slumped against a wall, torn apart by the swords of Brauven soldiers. The shadow of Cecilia’s restrained form, screaming out against interrogation, flickers across Dawson’s body. _

_ It’s too much, but it’s not enough. It keeps going. _

_ Vangath is ablaze too, and with it, their friends, their family, their fellow paladins. The temple of Celaste Moren burns, the garden blackened and alight. Their mother, lost in the flames as they reach out.  _

_ But it is still not enough.  _

_ An elemental of lightning and frost strikes Kainen down as he leaps in front of Weiren, and he is gone, thanks to their recklessness. Varis tears into Dormin’s neck, ripping it open with a spray of blood and letting him drop to the ground before them. The beastly man shoves Weiren’s shield aside and cuts into Lynne, too deep, the blade piercing through her back as the flute falls from her fingers. The Blood Knight finds all four of them, and draws his greatsword. He will not hesitate to cut them down. _

_ It is still not enough.  _

_ Weiren throws the door to the study open, and Marie Neval stands over Vicouryn’s lifeless body, a silver bow in her hands. The scene flickers, and Weiren throws the door to the study open. Vicouryn’s not dead, not yet. Marie Neval has a deadly arrow drawn, bowstring pulled taut, aimed at the queen. They run, as fast as they can, raising their arm, but their shield is gone, and they cannot stop the arrow from killing her again. _

_ It is still not enough.  _

_ Weiren hovers, intangible, behind Ana Arkova. She stands at the head of an airship, sending volley after volley of fiery blasts down at Doluum. First at Kohson, then Gedal, and then it’s Mevaden. The scene shakes, and Ana Arkova is now on the ground, a blade in her hand as she walks through the ruined city. Bodies line the streets, and they’re all bodies that Weiren recognizes. But they cannot stop the empress. Their spirit tied to hers, kept from ever returning to their own form, unable to stop her, watching as she lays waste to everything Weiren has ever loved. _

_ Please, let it be enough. _

***

Weiren is certainly fortunate that they only need about half as much time as others to fully rest, because they come out of their trance several hours earlier than Kainen, sweat slicking their body as emotion thrums through them. They’re breathing heavily, deep and ragged, registering that they’re okay, that they’re alive, and they’re awake and everything they saw wasn’t real.

They become aware of a weight on their chest, and they hurry to pull the barktooth necklace off. Vengeful forest spirits indeed; Weiren can barely remember ever feeling such overwhelming grief. And even though they rested, technically for the usual amount of time, they feel a bone-deep weariness that drags them down. Somewhere Weiren realizes there’s wetness on their cheeks. They must have shed tears during the dreams.

They pull their knees to their chest, forcing themself to calm down, focusing on their own breaths, but it’s hard. The thought of all of their friends dying before their eyes is too much. After finally finding people to travel with, the idea of losing everyone is devastating. The idea of failing to protect them, when that’s the only thing they’re trying to do… 

Not just their friends, but a certain woman, too. Vicouryn’s the only person who’s really seen Weiren, beyond their status as a paladin and a member of the Crystal Concord. She’s the only one who saw Weiren in their more fragile moments, witnessing things they’ve never dared to show anyone else.

How can they even bear the thought of her death?

Weiren stifles a sob, pressing a hand to their mouth as their shoulders tremble. No, this will not do. This is no place to cry. Slowly, painfully, Weiren forces the lump in their throat away and wipes away their tears. 

The paladin tucks the necklace back away into their belongings. It didn’t even give them any more clues to the ley lines or the druids, just drained them of their energy.

Weiren numbly pulls their shoes on. They should go on a walk to clear their mind. Some fresh air, perhaps, will do them good. Throwing their cloak over their shoulders, Weiren leaves the room. It’s hard to keep their eyes fully open, but they step out in the brisk air of Kandor. At the very least, the breeze does help, and they walk, wandering the streets.

That necklace must have been how the beast was overtaken by the forest spirits, pain and sorrow forcibly thrust upon him until he was gone. Weiren wonders how they would deal with such an onslaught of emotions for however many weeks he was lost.

Certainly just a single night of nightmares has already darkened their mood. They sigh, kicking a rock with the tip of their boot.

They didn’t expect to dream of Vicouryn in such a way. How much has she come to mean to them that the vengeance of a corrupted forest spirit used her to upset them? They know it’s dangerous to care too much, but sometimes she’s all they can think about. 

They were shown some of their greatest fears. If they’d failed to keep to the queen alive, who knows what would have happened? They’d never have given her their blood, never gone to meet with her, and they’d still be lost, drifting alone, longing for something that they could never request of their friends.

They want to see her again, even more now that they’ve been forced to see her die. Is she okay? Has an enemy come and found her? Did she get attacked on her way to Gedal? 

No… she must be fine. She’s incredibly strong, especially after having replenished her power. There’s no way anyone or anything has harmed her in that state. Right?

The image of Ana Arkova flashes in their mind. She may well be able to hurt Vicouryn. With her airships and armies and harnessing of the ley lines’ power, she could wreak untold havoc on the entire continent let alone Doluum. Curious Weiren may be of this empress and her knowledge, they know to be wary of her. She’s dangerous, and many died by her actions, even if she did not directly wield the weapon. Under her command, Ashana was destroyed. Gishal’s queen, murdered. Weiren can barely remember just how many bodies they saw in Gishal when the castle collapsed.

They sit by the lake in the pre-dawn morning, watching the gentle waves in the water. Ana Arkova wouldn’t blindly target one out of three kings of Doluum, and besides, she has to get through Kohson and Gedal, first. 

There’s no need to worry about Vicouryn, but they do. 

***

_ 11/20 _

_ Things really took a turn after we left Keld. While traveling through the forests on our way to Iyesgarth, the second main city of Kander, we were ambushed by the Moonblade Tribe, currently the largest orc tribe in Kandor. In recent times, though, other beastmen tribes joined up with them, so there are all different types of people in it. Their unity was necessary to stand up to the threat of Kandor’s civilized folk, especially slayers. The group that we encountered consisted of at least twenty-five. Needless to say, we were horribly outnumbered, and I’m certain we didn’t stand a chance. _

_ They didn’t attack us, though. Their leader, an orc named Gorig, expressed interest in Dejak for some reason, and claimed that he would be taking Dejak back to the warchief of the Moonblades to face judgement for his past. Though he wasn’t sure what to do with the rest of us. _

_ We couldn’t let Dejak go; we needed him and his guidance to navigate the forest wilds. It was also the first time we’d see him so shocked and resigned; he’d practically frozen in place. It was strange to see him like this. _

_ In the end, we agreed to be taken prisoner so that we could accompany Dejak and learn more. They took our weapons and bound our hands, then split us into groups of two for the journey to wherever they were taking us. _

_ The first night, we made camp, and Dejak explained everything to us. Kandor is currently under the jurisdiction of a large empire neighboring its eastern side, the Sheokaran Empire. In the past, when Sheokar invaded Kandor, the civilized towns fell first. Defeated, they swore to be a vassal of that empire, but the beastmen and orcs wanted to be free of such influence, so they banded together to fight.  _

_ The war that broke out between the civilized races and those of the forest was devastating. Sheokar’s tactics ravaged the forest, destroying glades and enraging the spirits of the forest, leading to the cursed magic of the present. Dejak himself was chieftain of a tribe called the Kulgrum, a small but honorable group that fought back against Sheokar. However, the forces he was fighting came to be too much. He begged for help from the other beast tribes, the orc tribes, and the forest spirits for help, but no help came, and the spirits only sought to corrupt his mind. Hopeless, he fled, leaving his tribe to die. _

_ After that night, we continued traveling, and we saw something strange. We went from walking through the forest to walking through wooden walkways with tall and thick trees on either side. There was far more plantlife in this path, of all sorts of colors and shapes, and more animals, both corrupted and not alike. An arcanist from the group escorting us told me that they were called spirit paths; that forest spirits used to be strong here. I wanted to learn more, but she said that if my group behaved, that she might tell me the whole story at the next camp. _

_ When we camped for the night, she kept her word, and we went on a brief walk. She explained a similar story to Dejak, though in more detail. Beast races and orcs lived closely with the forest spirits and within nature for a long time. There was a particular glade, known as the Forgotten Glade, where the magic of the forest spirits was strongest, like a nexus point. But when Sheokar invaded, the glade was destroyed. Dryads and spirits watched as their groves bled and burned, forever changing the state of natural magic of the world. The spirits who were left swore an oath of vengeance. Since then, the corrupted glades have only given rise to corruption, poison, and curses. People unused to nature fall quickly to their influence, but the orcs and beast races have lived alongside the spirits for centuries, and are resistant to this corruption, and can use the spirit paths that were left behind. Those of the civilized races will never find it on their own. _

_ I asked about any role that the druids of Kandor may have played, and learned that most tried to stay neutral, and were killed for trying to hold peace. The druids who were left hid themselves, and not many know much about them. Though, she said that the warchief of the Moonblades, Balgra the Blind, knew more, as she has interacted with the druids before. _

_ Eventually, we made it to the Moonblade camp and met Balgra, and we also learned that Dejak’s sister, Relja, is alive. After Dejak abandoned his people, Relja stepped up and led most of them out, surviving, and she is now Balgra’s right hand: a druid chief. Dejak was at a loss for words, and I can imagine why. _

_ Later, Balgra spoke with us to find out our purpose, and we told her. We were interesting to her, and seemed useful. I expressed a desire to find the druids, and she in turn made a proposal. Her brother, Troag, broke off from the Moonblades and took with him a small group and claimed an abandoned fort deeper into the woods. She suspects that he is corrupted by the forest spirits. If we can help deal with her brother, she will then take us to the druids. After making this deal, we are no longer prisoners, but allies, it seems. They trust us enough to at least remove our bindings, so I actually am capable of writing now. _

_ Dejak will be having a trial tomorrow, as well. I’m worried, but Balgra seems to be very fair and wise. Hopefully it will end well. _

***

_ 11/25 _

_ The trial went… well? I think. Normally Dejak’s crimes would have gotten him executed, but instead, Balgra claimed that if Dejak really wanted to die, then he would have to hold the blade himself. The others would not be forced to bear that burden. Thankfully, Dejak decided against death, and said he would at least finish his deal with us and take us to Talgrad. Balgra said she would ask him these questions again later and see if he has changed. _

_ I am glad Dejak lives. We may not speak much but I find him to be a great ally and friend. _

_ That night, Lynne and I shared a strange dream. Not like the visions we have of Ana Arkova. It was like we were sinking in a deep, deep pond. There were voices and movements and it was scary, but then it was still, and calm. At the end, somewhere in the distance, was the shape of a man sitting. He looked at us, but we couldn’t see any details. _

_ There was definitely more to the dream, but after we woke up, we couldn’t remember much more beyond what I described. I asked Balgra if she might know anything, and she’d said that dreams are a way to peer into the world beyond our own, but also that we’d be better off asking the druids. _

_ We also managed to deal with Troag. Balgra and the rest of the Concord went out together to find him.  _

_ We’d subjugated the other people he’d brought, but something was wrong with Troag himself. There was a strange infernal influence in him. I did what I could to stop his transformation, but it couldn’t stop it all. He was possessed by some demon and turned into a monster. He nearly killed Kainen, but I was able to heal him. _

_ When the demon fell there was strange crimson fungi growing all over his body and the area around him. The whole ground was desecrated. When we looked inside the fort, we found a gruesome altar of bones, skulls, and strange plants. It was unsettling. The implication is that some forest spirits were so grief-stricken that they turned to demonic power for revenge. I don’t know if it’s true, but it’s possible. And it’s terrifying. _

_ Keeping up her end of the deal, Balgra will be bringing us to the druids tomorrow. _

***

_ 11/27 _

_ The Druids of the Fargrove are everything I’ve dreamed of and more. They live in a strange dimension, around a huge magical tree known as the Mother Tree. It’s massive, and the space around it is entirely different from the space outside. It’s cold and rugged in the forests of Kandor, but in the domain of the Mother Tree, it’s temperate and comfortable. _

_ Balgra led us to it holding some sort of a charm, using it to guide us through the spirit paths. It was amazing to see it at first, and it still is breathtaking. We met Mathok, and Lynne and I recognized him as the figure from our dreams. His name is Mathok the Outcast, and he is the Archdruid of the Fargrove. _

_ We had a lot of questions that needed answers. We needed to know more about the scions, markers, and ley lines, though he was surprised that I knew about the ley lines at all. It’s only thanks to Laos and Idavira that I came to know about such things. _

_ He said that the Druids of the Fargrove have something they call the Dream Lore. Somehow they’ve stored history in the tree and in dreams, but this knowledge is powerful, and it can change a person. He said he would show it to us if one of us let him see our entire life through a dream, so that he could ascertain just what kind of people we are. I offered to go, but Mathok was interested in seeing Lynne’s life, because she is the most guarded of all of us. That night, the ritual was performed, and Mathok saw her whole history, and it was enough. _

_ After that he said he would take a person with him into the dream lore to see the history. _

_ There was some more time before that ritual would occur though. We spent a while trying to climb the Mother Tree, but as always, other people are stronger than me. I had a lot of trouble with it. I gave up after awhile and Mathok showed me the heart of the Mother Tree, the Wild Heart, which allows the druids to move the tree to different places. _

_ I also found some time to show Mathok the Barktooth necklace from the beast; he said it was dark and corrupted, and to leave it with him. I hope there aren’t any lingering effects from wearing it the few times I did… _

_ Before the ritual of the dream lore, Kainen expressed that he thought it would be good for him to be the one to see it, because he could draw on Cassian’s spirit. _

_ But I've been searching for answers about the ley lines this whole time. My whole purpose. I needed to be the one to go into this dream lore. _

_ And it was amazing. _

_ I drank something to help induce the dream, and then it was happening. At first, I was clinging to the tree, and then falling. Then I was walking through the streets of Vangath, plants sprouting with every step, until my own dreams faded away. I found Mathok in a dark world, where a river ran across the horizon, and connected. I saw brief flashes of Mathok’s life, and felt senses of frustration, failure, and solitude. _

_ Then the ley lines. Like cracks and spiderwebs, broken. Why were they broken? Mathok pulled me deeper, until I saw another world. The planet, and its ley lines, though they were perfect rings and lines and grids. Completely different from the ley lines of today. Beneath those lines were eleven large lights—the deities, I think—but then something else happened. Thousands of small lights gathered and collected into the shape of concentric circles, two of them, around Fadan. Then threads formed between these marks (the markers?), connecting them across the continent. After that, everything shattered. All the lights went out. Most were just snuffed, but one light shattered into pieces. _

_ Mathok said that this vision happened a little over two thousand years ago, but the world should not be this young. Back then, the gods used to walk among us, on the material place, which was supposed to be the only plane. These other planes that we have now, the feywild, the infernal, everything, all came after this event when the world tried to recover from this cataclysmic event. _

_ This event happened because something or someone tried to do something with the ley lines, and destroyed them. This is foreboding, especially knowing other things about Ashana. That country is located in the center of the continent, and of the two concentric rings I saw in the vision. Its history of the hero kings sacrificing themselves for Ashana is said to have been two thousand years ago, too. I’m guessing that these hero kings tried to control or affect the ley lines for some reason, and it led to this catastrophe. That’s why the ley lines are like this now, broken and changing and shifting. _

_ What’s worrying is that Mathok said that he felt a tug on the ley lines, as if someone was trying to thread them again, and I can only imagine it is whatever Ana Arkova is doing. _

_ After that, the topic of teleporting the Mother Tree came up, as the druids have been in Kandor for a long time, and it will soon be too dangerous for them to stay here. There were several options, with the safest one appearing to be at the southernmost tip of Doluum, just north of the Merdid Desert., and with the tree having enough energy to teleport up to three times. But then, somehow, the idea of teleporting the tree closer to Talgrad arose. Perhaps we could get to Talgrad and save Kainen’s family and people and bring them back to the tree, and teleport away again to safety. I never thought such a thing would be possible, but after much discussion, Mathok said the druids would be willing to do it. _

_ I’m terrified, but it’s going to happen. The next time I write, we’ll have made it to Talgrad, and hopefully rescued everyone. _

***

_ I don’t remember the date, but it’s been a long time. Maybe a week, or maybe longer. _

_ Quite frankly, there really is no worse way that going to Talgrad could have gone. When we teleported with the druids, we were placed about a day’s journey away from the city, but we could see a single airship with a Brauven banner circling it. Bad news, but certainly not as bad as a whole fleet of airships. We met up with the Ashanan refugees camped outside of the city walls and came up with a plan to enter while disguised, for Kainen’s mother, Scion Nyla, and few other diplomats were being kept inside the lord’s manor. It turns out that the other half of the Ashanan refugees fled Ashana after the Brauven invasion and into Kandor to protect themselves, as the Brauven Empire wouldn’t immediately attack the Kandor Lordships for fear of starting war with them and consequently the massive Sheokaran Empire.  _

_ But nevertheless, Empress Arkova wants those scions, and so the Brauven army put on the pressure with the single airship. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d sent even more after more time had passed. _

_ We’d made it inside the city easily enough and found an inn to use as a base while we figured out our next steps. Unexpectedly, a messenger came and told us that Lord Xander wanted to meet with us. It was strange, but not completely out of the ordinary, because Kandor rarely gets outsiders so far north, and it seemed like perhaps the Lord was simply curious. _

_ But it was all a trap. Not set by Brauven, but by two slayers we had encountered previously when we first entered Kandor down at the Southern Gate: Laine and Kaleel. They’d known that Kainen was a scion, and they’d made it to Talgrad before we did. They made a deal with Lord Xander, saying that they’d get us and then deliver us as well as the other Ashanan prisoners in the castle directly to Brauven, which in turn would make the airship leave. It seems as if Lord Xander was unable to deal with the Brauven Empire in any other way but to comply with their demands, so I can’t particularly blame him. Laine and Kaleel simply lined their own pockets with the arrangement, because the bounty on our heads was apparently quite high, though definitely it was highest on the scions.  _

_ I messed up. Having gone through what we did and knowing far more about the world made me a bit too confident. I thought that perhaps I could get to Laine first and grab her and maybe use her as leverage to stop the fight before it began. We were hopelessly outnumbered and I thought this was the best option. _

_ I was wrong. _

_ Kaleel had some strange device that filled the room with poison, and Laine had a weapon with magical effects that swayed our minds. By separating myself in that first move, I think I doomed us all. The two slayers had laid the perfect trap and we walked directly into it. _

_ Of course, we lost. _

_ Maybe we still would have lost if I hadn’t made that first move; clearly our enemy was well-prepared for us, but I wonder if perhaps it could have gone differently if I’d stuck by my allies and done what I’m always done: protect and support them. _

_ After being defeated, Laine gleefully told us that she’d be handing us off to the famed Blood Knight of Brauven. That was the first time we’d heard his actual title. The Blood Knight.  _

_ She had Kaleel inject us with something that put us to sleep, and when we woke up we were in cages on a cart headed to a large war airship. The only silver lining is that Kainen’s mom and Scion Nyla were there, too; we’d found them, but we were all prisoners, and we did not have any way to escape. Certainly, the Blood Knight was there, and he handed Laine quite a hefty sack of what must have been the largest payment she’d ever received. The Blood Knight was strange. He had a very clear sense of some kind of honor and a strict code he seemed to follow, with an appropriate amount of proper etiquette. In honesty, he was treating the war prisoners quite well. Were there not a war and us in opposing sides I wonder if I might have been able to talk more with him. _

_ We were on the airship for quite some time, until one day when we felt it land, and we were escorted out to a strange room to talk to none other than Ana Arkova, but she wasn’t really there. It was full of runes and strange metallic contraptions, and just like in the last airship, the empress appeared. A full figure, this time with almost no distortion and a clear picture, made of energy and standing before us. _

_ At first, she was very interested in Kainen; after all, he was another prized scion.  _

_ Then she realized something more.  _

_ She recognized me.  _

_ She recognized me, Lynne, and Dormin. Our presence. She recognized us as the ones watching her. _

_ She said we’d been spiritually tied to her, and likened it to the idea of a scion. She said she felt quite like a scion with three hero spirits clinging to her own spirit. _

_ I still don’t know what to think of this. She said that once we got to Brauven, we’d be helping her figure out a way to break this connection. We wouldn’t be normal prisoners, anymore, now that she learned about our visions. _

_ There were a few more questions, but they still left me confused. Empress Arkova views this war as a game. She quite literally referred to it as such more than once. She’s already mastered some kind of manipulation of the ley lines, as it seemed that the technology used to facilitate this communication sent waves through them. And the ley lines had reacted the very first time she showed up, before she had murdered her predecessor.  _

_ Then something else happened. The ship shook, the ley lines pulsed, and I felt something on my person break. _

_ Before we left the Druids of the Fargrove, Mathok had given me a talisman so that I could find my way back to them one day. After the shift of energy through the ley lines, it had broken.  _

_ Arkova seemed amused, and we were ordered to be sent back to the holding cells. We only made it a bit of the way down the hall. _

_ And then the druids showed up. _

_ The ship shook violently as pillars of stone and ice smashed through the hull, holding it down the ground. This was our chance to escape. Various animals of different kinds appeared, shifting forms from person to beast as the Druids of the Fargrove mounted an attack. Two druids in particular came to us, Lunbroch and Sastru, and we convinced them to help us find our gear and rescue the other prisoners. _

_ It was not easy. The Blood Knight showed up, and he did not want us to escape. We’d already fought through so many other soldiers, and I was trying to hold more off while the others broke down the door to the holding cells and found an exit.  _

_ We were only able to get out of the ship thanks to Dejak. I wasn’t expecting it but he charged in at just the right time and fought with the Blood Knight, giving me and Kainen the opportunity to follow the others. The druids had reshaped the wood of the airship to form a ramp down, and we managed to get out. Now outside, the only thing left to do was make it to Mathok across the battlefield. _

Weiren hefts their shield up, trying to protect the druid nearby as the Brauven soldiers slam down with their swords. It’s absolute chaos. Wildshaped druids are fighting like soldiers, and it hurts to know that they’re risking so much for  _ them _ . For the Crystal Concord. These druids aren’t meant to fight, and yet they are, and they are losing so many. 

The paladin glances back over their shoulder, and is relieved to see that most of their friends have almost made it to Mathok. The goliath druid has helped incredibly with various spells that slowed the Blood Knight down, but the ominous figure is fast approaching. Weiren has already taken enough hits from that knight, and they aren’t eager to add to the tally. Their armor is slick with their own blood from the wounds inflicted by him. 

“Go, I’ll cover you!” Weiren shouts as Lunbroch gets an opportunity to escape, and he runs. Thank the gods. Looking back forward as they breathe heavily, the Blood Knight approaches. His large form looks as if he hasn’t taken a single effective hit; he strides with fearful determination. Even in the snow, Weiren can see the curved horns of the metal helmet arcing over his head. Somehow, they have to protect everyone from him. Everyone else has been hurt too much. 

Weiren shoves at the soldier swinging at them with their shield, spinning their flail. They have to hang on, for their friends. Thankfully, many of the soldiers have been taken care of, leaving the diplomats, the Crystal Concord, and the druids a clear path to Mathok. To safety. Weiren swings wildly, keeping the soldiers at bay as they try to follow their friends, but they won’t lie. It’s looking grim. 

Another glance back, and Weiren suddenly feels distant. Even just the few seconds they’ve spent holding the back of the group was enough for everyone else to get even farther. All their friends are getting smaller in their vision. 

Weiren hears the  _ whoosh _ through the air and the sounds of metal and barely turns around in time to raise their shield, arm straining as a powerful blow comes upon them. They let out a small shout as the greatsword slides down their shield, and Weiren comes face to face with the Blood Knight. Their eyes widen.

_ No. _

The knight is massive, dwarfing Weiren in every dimension. His strength and sheer will are unparalleled, and Weiren can’t imagine that they’ll survive more than a single hit from him.

Weiren realizes that their hands are shaking and tries to steady them by gripping onto their weapon and shield tighter. They have to fight. They have to try. For their friends.

And for someone else. 

Weiren’s supposed to meet with her again. They need to return the quill.

With another battle cry the Blood Knight bears down upon them. Weiren’s gasping as they try to keep up, dodging and ducking as best as they can, trying to keep their shield between them and the fearsome combatant. Somehow the adrenaline keeps them moving, and Weiren manages to avoid three separate strikes. 

_ Please, Celaste Moren, keep watching over me. I have to survive. _

The Blood Knight briefly pauses in his motions and Weiren takes the opportunity to take a single step back, bracing themself, when suddenly he begins to move faster than Weiren can track. His blade dances around, too quick for Weiren to block, leaving behind phantom images. It’s a series of strikes that are dizzying.

Weiren’s eyes are spinning, and for that moment they’re overwhelmed by the feints and the speed of the Blood Knight. They’re frozen for just a few seconds, unable to keep up.

The opportunity to run away is gone. When Weiren blinks out of their stupor, there’s three other soldiers that have made it up to them, and Weiren isn’t ready to raise their shield.

The greatsword cleaves through the front of Weiren’s chestplate, leaving behind a deep gash. They stumble back, and the Blood Knight continues the swing back and around in the opposite direction, tearing through the side of their arm. Weiren screams, but there’s nothing they can do against the onslaught. The knight carries through the motion and spins the blade back once again, and Weiren can see him going for an overhead strike. A  _ final  _ strike. 

They think of the black quill, safely tucked away in their pouch. A pouch that will be stuck under their unmoving corpse in just a few seconds.

_ I’m sorry. I-I won’t be able to give it back _ .

Weiren tries to lift their shield, but they know it won’t matter. Surrounded, wounded, and the last one of their group, left behind in the cold. But at least their friends will be safe. It’s a worthy death, at least, Weiren thinks to themself. They don’t mind dying for them.

The Blood Knight swings down, burying the blade into Weiren’s shoulder. It cuts too deep, Weiren knows, and they fall. The pain is unbearable; it’s completely overwhelming any other sensation and they’re lost in agony, lying in the red snow. Images flash in their mind. At first, the walls of Vangath, and then people, Weiren realizes. Their mother. Then another person; a woman with a dark bun, standing before the tall and imposing temple of Celaste Moren. A tiefling with red skin and messy hair, a warning in her voice. A fellow paladin, and a corrupt priest. Then beyond Vangath. Lynne, Dormin, Kainen. Henry, the driver of their cart long ago. Dawson and Cecilia. Maia. Uran yelling a battle cry as she fights. Keroth and Princess Vikara, on the airship. More and more people come and go, and Weiren thinks of them. How they all impacted them. The High Kings, the Mevaden nobles, Marie Neval, Thoris, Dejak, Rhuson. Balgra and Relja. Mathok, and all of the druids. So many different people, and it must be the last time they’ll ever see them.

A darkness fills their visions, and it reminds them strangely of a shadowy study in the late hours of the night. An unlit fireplace on the side. There’s the silhouette of a woman, standing in front of a window, and she’s turning towards them, a glint of amber in the dark.

Weiren wants to reach out to that image. They want to hang on. They want to live, so that they can return. But there is no life left for them. This must be how it all ends, the same way they’ve spent so much of their life.

Alone.

Something hot runs down their cheek, stinging against cuts and bruises. It must be more blood, they think. The picture of the dark study recedes, fading away. Even she cannot reach them here. 

Weiren closes their eyes, and drifts away.

***

_ I lived. _

_ Mathok saved me somehow. I heard from the others that he conjured a strange fae-like bird to rescue me. Me, and yet so many of his fellow druids perished in the battle. I don’t know if I deserved that. _

_ The druids pulled open a portal directly to the Mother Tree, and we escaped.  _

_ But Dejak stayed behind. His home is now with the Moonblade Tribe, and he cannot leave Kandor. _

_ The druids performed the teleportation ritual yet again for the final time, and we found ourselves now at the southernmost tip of Doluum, just north of the Merdid Desert. I wanted to stay and learn more, but there was no time. Mathok gave me another charm to replace the one that had broken; they’d used it as a beacon to locate us, so at least maybe sometime in the future I’ll be able to return. Maybe I’ll be able to repay them for saving my life. _

_ All that’s left to do is head north and lead the rest of the refugees to Gedal, reuniting the two different groups of Ashanan people as well as the scions. _

_ I can’t believe I’m still alive... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spice will return soon guys  
> also i would rly appreciate a comment if ya read cuz i wont know if u read otherwise and id love 2 hear what yall think :pleading:


	13. Return to Doluum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After harrowing experiences in Kandor and escaping the clutches of the Brauven Empire, Weiren returns to Gedal and reunites with many old friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spice returns next chapter  
> sunday night is basically the same as monday :/

Gedal’s shape is visible in the distance. This will be the second time the Crystal Concord comes with a whole group of various refugees in tow, though thankfully there isn’t anyone suffering from the Blood Knight’s affliction, so it’s not as pressing to hurry as fast as possible. They’re moving a solid, normal pace.

Weiren wonders if perhaps King Rundahl and Queen Vicouryn are here, holding council with King Yahsan to deal with the war, or has it been so long that they’ve come and gone already? Unfortunately they don’t think the Crystal Concord will have any reason to head to Mevaden; their only chance to see Vicouryn again is to be lucky that she’s in Gedal. It’s been a whole month already, and they’ve had a black quill waiting to be returned this entire time. 

But it’ll be good to be back in Gedal regardless. The last month was spent surviving in the wilds for the most part, and with a nice sprinkling of being held prisoner to various other groups. The idea of having a real bed to sleep in with a roof over their head is incredibly enticing. Finally somewhere that they’re truly safe, at least for the time being.

Of course, they find themself thinking of lying down in a chaise lounge alongside a certain woman, holding each other. As opposed to sleeping in their own bed, this image is something they find themself preferring far more.

***

_ The Crystal Concord arrives in Gedal, where the refugees are received and given food and drink and a place to stay. Having messaged Cecilia ahead of time, the party will be meeting her as well as their other old friends for dinner that night. _

***

Weiren’s a little antsy at the prospect of seeing their old friends again, but they are excited. It’ll be good to see them all well and healthy. Cecilia Rundahl has planned a dinner at the White Pearl’s Rest the night of the Crystal Concord’s return to Gedal, the very inn that the party has just arrived at.

“Lady Cecilia has booked a private dining room for you and your party. I hope it will be to your taste. She knows everything that comes with the room but if you have any questions, just grab one of us outside the hall, and we’ll be happy to help,” the attendant says, pushing the door open for the group and revealing quite a luxurious sight. A large table, just about done with being set by a couple of waitstaff sits in the center and surrounded by several chairs. Though, at the head of the table, in a deep but dark blue dress and with an elegant hairstyle, is Cecilia Rundahl. Weiren blinks in surprise; they’d grown quite accustomed to seeing her in simpler clothes and with a bow and a quiver of arrows on her back. They suppose this really is how she normally dresses, in a manner befitting a woman of her station. They’re surprised to realize that they don’t feel the gulf between them widen; they suppose they’ve just gotten that used to dealing with royalty by now. 

What a crazy two months.

Beside her sits yet another old friend in similarly fine clothes: Dawson Kilkreath, a leg crossed over the other. One of his sleeves has been sewn and pinned to the side of his tunic rather than left to dangle loosely, and they can tell he’s gotten a lot better at using his non-dominant hand. Farther away, they can see the slender form of the quiet Maia, leaning against the wall in the corner with a careful eye watching over the entire room. At the Concord’s entrance, her gaze snaps to them sharply, though she doesn’t jump or anything. 

They are all okay, and Weiren sighs in relief.

Dawson and Cecilia turn to their group, smiles forming on their faces, though Dawson speaks first.

“They’re here!” He exclaims, “They’re here, finally, finally. Sit down right now, my gods, it’s been so long!” His friendly voice is such a welcome sound to their ears. They can still remember when they first met him, when they were even more cautious of nobility and their tendency to fall to corruption, but he’s still just as earnest as he was back then. Weiren can’t help their own smile.

“It’s been- it feels like it’s been way,  _ way _ too long,” Dawson says, standing to reach out his hand to the party, “My gods, you all look great! And alive, and back safe.” He’s genuinely happy to see them and Weiren is happy to see him, too. Kainen shakes his hand first, and Dawson goes down the line, giving each of them a happy greeting.

“And just as well! It seems you are all doing quite well for yourselves,” Dormin returns, “how have you all been?”

“Well, I’m sure it’s been difficult for all of us,” Cecilia answers, “but we’ve been getting along as best we can. We’re all safe. For now, the war has proven to take up much of our attention, and with your opportune arrival, we have lots of things to talk about. It’s good to see that you all made it through your dangerous trip through Kandor.”

“Somehow,” Weiren says with a sigh.

“Definitely, we have a lot to talk about regarding  _ that _ ,” Dormin says, shaking his head as he recalls their lengthy and eventful journey.

“Who all else are we expecting?” Lynne asks, glancing around the room.

“We can fill you in with all the details of what we’ve been going through recently, but, seeing as it makes the most sense and as a courtesy to all of your friends, we have invited the rest of the scions of Ashana who are within Gedal as well as our brief but stoic traveling companion Keroth, who still resides within the walls as well,” Cecilia informs them. That’ll be quite a group to have in one room, just as when they all traveled through the Eighth Marker together, though Nyla will be a new addition. That means four out of the five scions will be reunited.

“Well, I would certainly like to speak with him,” Dormin says with a nod, as Keroth is a fellow paladin from the same order, “I have some urgent matters to discuss, but that can come when it does.”

“As much as this is a reunion among traveling friends,” Cecilia returns, “I feel like this is a time to exchange a lot of urgent news. But, you all arrived here as guests, and I’m sure the other ones will arrive in time. We have food and drink for the night. There’s a comfortable side room for any private meetings, and a balcony too, if you don’t mind the rain, that is.”

Dawson makes his way back to his seat next to Cecilia.

“I gotta say, you all look different than the last time I saw you,” He points out, giving long looks to each of them, “You all look tougher. A little rougher around the edges. I was impressed when I first met you all back in Emberdale and when Kainen fell out of the sky, but now you all look like you could take on half the town!”

Weiren definitely has learned a lot in their time since parting ways with Dawson. They hope they’ve gotten stronger, but Dawson also didn’t see them get absolutely decimated by Laine and Kaleel.

“We all have been through quite a bit,” Dormin says, nodding, “Kandor certainly puts a bit of hair on your chest if you know what I mean.”

Following Dawson, the rest of the Crystal Concord finds seats at the table.

“I hear the stories and everyone talks about how shitty Kandor is, but I’m sure they don’t do it justice,” Dawson says curiously.

“Not only is Kandor what it is,” Weiren adds with a bit of a pained expression, “But we did kind of spend some time as prisoners of the Brauven Empire, too.”

Dawson winces at that.

“Well, that’s a story. I thought the worst thing you were gonna have to deal with were crazed werewolf monsters or something-” He says, shaking his head.

“We did that as well!” Kainen pipes up quietly, and Dawson makes an expression of disbelief.

“Seriously?” He says, “Wow.”

Weiren glances down at the fancy cutlery and dishware laid on the table as the rest of their friends fill Dawson, Cecilia, and Maia in about their experiences in Kandor. The last time Weiren had been to a place this nice, they realize, was at the Banquet of the Full Moon, all the way back in Mevaden. Even if they’re a bit more accustomed to it by now, they still feel just a bit out of place being surrounded by so much elegance. 

After talking about Kandor, Dawson and Cecilia then move on to catching the Crystal Concord up on the events of the war with Brauven. King Yahsan actually took back Gishal successfully from Brauven, but Princess Vikara is in a difficult position, since Gishal is currently a military outpost and she is also too young to succeed the throne properly.

“By all means, with our combined forces, we should outnumber the Brauven army. They’ve been giving ground surprisingly quickly, but we still don’t know their strategies,” Cecilia says, “The High Kings have been in intense discussion for quite some time, but the crusade from Vangath has changed things. It is rather unfortunate that I wasn’t able to accompany you all to Mevaden; Queen Vicouryn is a very interesting ruler and I would have liked to meet with her before all this happened.”

Weiren’s eyes flick up to Cecilia at the mention of Vicouryn. Has she been meeting with her? Does Cecilia know how Vicouryn is doing?

“That’s one way to put it,” Lynne says in response.

“She certainly is one of a kind,” Dormin agrees.

Yes, an interesting ruler indeed. Weiren shares an uncomfortable discreet look with Lynne; they and their friends all know that beyond the stoic queen lies the fact that she is a vampire.

Also she… she…

The tiefling tilts her head at them with the slightest raised eyebrow. 

Weiren looks away from Lynne as they recount the memories: Vicouryn sinking her fangs into their shoulder not once but twice, Vicouryn reaching out to them with a touch among a sea of deprivation, Vicouryn pulling them close to her and wrapping them in her arms, Vicouryn tearing down the unseen barriers that Weiren held up around them and giving them something to hope for.

Lynne thinking that they’re Vicouryn’s secret lover or something…

Weiren takes a glass of water and begins to sip at it, avoiding eye contact with anyone. The anxiety in their chest builds.

“Well, for a time I’ve been standing in as a representative of Kohson and I’ve had many discussions with King Yahsan before my father showed up. He was not happy I left without his consent, but he can’t deny that I’ve done a damn good job here in his stead until he moved his old bones out of Kohson,” Cecilia continues, “As of right now I’m observing, but what we’re going to next, either I or my father will have to determine. We can’t leave the west undefended if Vangath is coming, meaning we can’t coalesce our military force in the way we originally wanted. It’s a dangerous situation.”

“And,” Dawson speaks up, “As much as it’s been to stay and see all this craziness, it feels like my initial goal has been put on the backburner, and I’ll have to return to Emberdale. It’s right on the border, and even though my father wasn’t a fan of this whole alliance, I have to go back and reinforce the city, get soldiers ready to fight, evacuate the nonessential citizens and even more, because we’re going to be the front line against Vangath.”

“Our group was considering heading toward Vangath,” Weiren says, “Maybe we could journey together?”

There’s a pause as Cecilia takes a prominent sip of wine.

“Try not to encourage him too much,” she says, setting the goblet down a little audibly, “Dawson is  _ no  _ fighter as I’ve explained before, and his stubborn father will have no choice but to work with our military if he wants his territory to remain intact.” She sends him a disapproving look. “You’re safer here, and you’re more useful here than you would be putting on armor with one arm and trying to swing a sword around. It’s ridiculous.” With that, she turns away, glancing elsewhere. Weiren looks down, not having meant to offend Cecilia.

“Cecilia,” Dawson says with concern, “We’ve talked about this. You  _ know  _ I have to go. What kind of ruler would I be if I left my own people defenseless? We both know I don’t know how to fight, but I at least have to be there.”

He makes a fair point, but Weiren is loath to see Dawson be in danger from their home country.

“Dawson, if we do head that way, we can pass through Emberdale and speak to Lord Kilkreath on your behalf,” Kainen suggests, but Dawson shakes his head.

“I’m going to have to speak to him myself,” he says, “He has no choice but to join the alliance even if the old scars are there, or else we won’t survive. I wish things didn’t happen this way; I wish I could have properly convinced my father, but times were difficult. Traveling along the road wasn’t what I’d planned; I ended up coming all the way to Gedal! You might not remember, but I originally set out to Kohson to romance a princess who immediately told me she was going to elope with a stable boy.”

Gods, what memories. Dawson really had come quite a long way.

“What a time,” Weiren says softly.

“It all seemed so much simpler back then, didn’t it?” Dormin says wistfully.

“Trust me,” Cecilia says, looking back at Dawson with a firm expression, “There are better people out there for you than Beatrice and her simple mind anyway.”

Weiren tries to stare out of the corner of their eyes, noting the tension in Cecilia’s voice as she grips her goblet. The two share a look, Dawson frowning a bit sadly.

The tense moment is broken by a knock on the door, and Weiren glances back to see Keroth entering the room. They’re thankful to see him looking in much better shape than last time, no longer horribly wounded. Now in fine clothes, his hair is arranged to fall down his back in waves, and he’s much more cleaned up. He looks like a new man.

Dormin stands.

“Ah, brother!” He exclaims, reaching out a hand, “I’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

“Brother Dormin,” Keroth returns, “It’s been awhile. Good to see you doing well.”

The two paladins of Garmir talk briefly, a little more quietly and Weiren watches as they come to take a seat.

“Weiren, Lynne, Kainen,” Keroth addresses them, “Good to see you.’ He has a quiet and reserved manner that Weiren feels a sense of camaraderie with, and he sits down, looking just a bit uncomfortable at all the people in the room. Yep.

Following Keroth, a few waitstaff enter with several platters.

“Now, I paid for all of this,” Cecilia says, drawing everyone’s attention, “So if I don’t see at least most of it gone, I’ll be pissed. All of you better start eating right now; it was  _ expensive _ .”

“Yes, ma’am,” Weiren says, nodding alongside their friends. Gods, though, there is  _ so  _ much food. After eating nothing but rations and foraged berries for the past several weeks, the whole buffet looks like a dream. There’s tons of fish and wild game cooked in various ways, some fried, some boiled, and lots of vegetables to supplement them. They can see several meat pies, too, getting passed down the way. Their stomach is feeling quite empty.

Starting with Cecilia, the food begins to make its way down the table with people serving themselves. Weiren notices as Cecilia assists Dawson, communicating silently with him with subtle expressions and serving some of his food. She always makes sure to wait until his hand is free to pass him the next thing. 

Weiren’s expression softens at this display of consideration; it’s sweet.

About half the food has made it down the table when there’s more footsteps, and Weiren looks up to see another three people enter the room. It’s the three scions: Brie, a friendly-looking halfling with short hair; Laref, a red tiefling with curled horns; and Nyla, a half-elf woman with wild curly hair pulled into a loose ponytail.

“Hey everyone!” Brie greets enthusiastically, “Kainen, wow, this looks great!” 

“Gods, that’s a lot of food,” Laref comments as his eyes fall on the table.

“Um, hello, everyone,” Nyla says quietly, glancing around nervously. Weiren feels a sense of camaraderie with her, too.

“Glad you all could make it!” Kainen says, getting up to share hugs with his fellow scions. The three new guests find seats, with Brie taking a seat next to Kainen as he resumes eating. The Crystal Concord exchanges greetings with them, too.

“Well,” Laref says, crossing his arms, “Haven’t had food like this in a long time. How’s it taste?”

“Mghmg,” Kainen says back, mouth completely full, prompting a small chuckle from Weiren.

“Nice,” Laref returns, nodding before taking stock of the table and looking at everyone else here. “Right, so I’ve met you, you, you, oh. I don’t remember your name.”

“It’s Dawson,” Dawson says with a sigh, “I’ve told you three times.”

“Right,” Laref says with a nod, “For some reason I  _ always  _ remember you as daddy and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because they sound similar?”

There’s a loud thump under the table and Laref grabs his shin.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” He swears, gripping onto it as Brie smiles at him across the way.

“Well,  _ I _ made sure to remember everyone’s name and I’m really happy that we’re all sitting together for the first time,” Brie says with a bright grin, “This is great!”

“It really is,” Kainen agrees, swallowing down some food, “There were so many times I was scared I wouldn’t see any of you again, but here we are.”

“I know, right?” Brie returns, “The past months have been… weird and crazy and sad. But I get to feel super happy tonight.” She grabs the nearest bottle of wine and fills her goblet to the brim eagerly, and then lifts it up. “To happiness!”

“It’s been a long road to get here,” Dormin says, raising his own glass. Weiren lifts theirs, too, except they’re just lifting a cup of water. The others follow suit, and they all share in the toast.

Weiren feels happy, too, but even in the wake of seeing so many old friends, they find they’re too distracted to partake in the conversation too much.

Beyond everything else, they want to see Vicouryn again.

***

Once again, the party is summoned to the white-spired castle of King Yahsan. It’s been a solid several weeks since the last time they were here. Passing through halls full of politicians, nobles, and diplomats, it's dizzying, but Weiren is intent to see the throne room, for perhaps a certain someone may be there. She should be there. She will be. Everyone said that she would be.

The guards escort the Crystal Concord through the large doors, and Weiren gasps as subtly as they can as they step past the threshold. Though King Yahsan still resides in his throne at the very back of the room, there is now a long, wooden table in front of him that stretches far to either side of him. To his left, at the very end of the table, sits King Rundahl, poring over some papers, and to his right, seated in a regal manner, is Queen Vicouryn, a single pale hand resting on the edge of the table.

Relief floods their body at the sight of her. She looks  _ fine _ . Healthy, strong, powerful. There was no need for them to worry at all. Still clad in Mevaden-esque garments, she wears a black dress and elegant coat. Weiren feels a smile unconsciously form on their face, and they hurry to put on a respectable expression.

At their entry, all of the High Kings turn to face them. Weiren’s aware of Yahsan and Rundahl, but for the second all they can do is stare at Vicouryn, taking in her sight. The queen sweeps her gaze across them all, but Weiren thinks she might have lingered on them for just a second longer.

_ Finally _ .

“Come on, step forward,” King Yahsan addresses them, “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen your faces. A bit more battle-scarred than before, I see.”

The Crystal Concord steps forward and kneels, though Weiren almost forgets; it’s only thanks to their peripheral vision of their friends that they remember. They’re still distracted, still just thinking about how they can finally see her again. After a moment, he motions with his hand, and they all rise.

“Well, I’ve heard some interesting stories about your group, the Crystal Concord. Really making a name for yourself, this time,” the king continues. Certainly this past month has been full of wild events. “Well, we’ll watch over these refugees as long as we can; the times are tough, and the Doluum Alliance is all about uniting under times of danger and stress,” he continues, which is good to hear, especially considering how Gedal has already been holding so many refugees from before. “But, I’m curious to hear, with your recent foray into Kandor and your encounters with the Brauven Army, if you have any news that would benefit us, now's the time to share.”

Oh, Celaste Moren, do they have news to share. They tear their eyes away from Vicouryn; just knowing she is there lifts their spirits. There will be time later to talk to her.

“Well, uh, how much have you heard of the Blood Knight?” Weiren asks after a pause and sees that their comrades don’t speak up. The Blood Knight seems like a good place to start at, considering he’s the biggest single-person threat aside from the empress herself. King Yahsan sits up, interested.

“The Blood Knight? A man I’ve been interested to meet in this whole battle. Elusive, but one of the most famed warriors in our lands,” Yahsan answers, rubbing at his chin.

“Well, it’s for good reason,” Dormin speaks up, “We got a very personal encounter with him; he is tenacious, intimidating, and very, very strong. He is certainly one of the empress’ most prized champions.” Kainen adds to the story, describing the sheer might of the Blood Knight, and suddenly they’re lost in the storm, shield up but surrounded by enemies. The knight swings, light glinting off of the dark plate metal of his armor. They can feel, intimately, the cursed greatsword carving through their body and splattering blood across the snow. And then they’re lying on the ground, red staining the ice around them.

They wince at the memory. They don’t know if they can face that man ever again. When they shake themself out of the scene they find that they’ve clenched a fist against their chest, where a particularly deadly slash was dealt. They sigh, and drop their hand. Glancing up, they’re briefly startled by the focused gaze of Queen Vicouryn, and they swallow, turning their attention back to Yahsan.

“With the weapon he has, he’s quite a force to be reckoned with,” Weiren says.

“Even without it, his manner on the battlefield is none like anything I’ve ever seen,” Kainen adds, nodding.

“Especially if he has the support of magic-users at his side.” Weiren shudders. With magically enhanced speed given by a wizard hiding in the back lines, the Blood Knight was practically unstoppable, moving faster than anything they’ve ever witnessed before.

“Well, I doubt the empress is foolish enough to let her prized champion into battle without necessary support,” King Yahsan says, “I’ve heard all the rumors, the legends, the myths. Just now, coming out of Brauven, all their people want to sing his name. It’s surprising a man of his notoriety would have been so little-known until recently, but I guess it’s good to keep trump cards hidden until the war really starts. It’ll be exciting to find a way to take that one down.”

Weiren frowns. Will there even be a way to take the Blood Knight down? At the time it didn’t seem like it, and even now it still doesn’t. Yahsan doesn’t seem to truly understand how much of a menace he really is.

“Any other news?” He asks after contemplating that first piece of information. 

“I think they’ve been improving their technology to the point of being able to communicate quickly from afar,” Weiren continues, “not necessitating magic to send messages, but they can project images of themselves across the way. We were in a prison warship, and the empress herself was easily able to appear, in a strange spectral form, and interrogate us, despite being elsewhere. Somewhere miles and miles away, I think. I don’t even know exactly where she was.”

“It is most notable that their ships are what truly carries this capacity, at least to our knowledge,” Dormin adds, “And we believe that the empress may be using this to more directly give orders on a rapid basis.”

King Rundahl leans back in his chair, rubbing at his beard.

“Oh my,” he begins, “if I had that kind of magic back in the old days, things would have been very different. This is good information, though, thank you.”

“There is, however, a slight downside to this form of communication,” Weiren points out, “It requires the ship to land, as it seems it takes an enormous amount of energy to use this technology, so much so that it could not fly at the same time. That’s how we were able to escape.” They doubt that the druids could have saved them if Empress Arkova hadn’t taken the time to talk to them.

“That is good to know. We suspected that there was something unifying their command structure in a way we haven’t seen before. Their battle line was so reactive and flexible, constantly bending at our reach. That would explain it.” Rundahl nods, a thoughtful look in his eyes. The most experienced in wartime, of course he would have much to analyze.

“It’s worth noting that the empress prefers this type of direct control,” Kainen mentions, “she acts as if all of this is simply a matter of… she sees this as some sort of challenge to overcome.”

“Yes, she has a very peculiar view on this war, on everything,” Weiren agrees, “It didn’t seem as if there was much more purpose to this war other than seeing how far she could go. Like Kainen said: a challenge to see how far she can take her army and expand. It did not seem as if she was going to stop with just Fadan; she would want to go even farther, for some reason.”

Vicouryn turns her head away from the party, directing her attention to the other High Kings.

“An empress that prefers direct control; I can’t say I don’t empathize,” she states impassively, “It seems my point remains; a mind like hers with what we’ve seen, it truly would be remiss to not take the opportunity to pick apart her mind sometime.” There it is, her voice, Weiren thinks. It’s true, though. Weiren has trouble understanding Ana Arkova, and they’ve tried, but they still can’t quite get her.

“The only concern there would be that once again, she wants to be in control, and she will take any opportunity to manipulate you,” Kainen points out with concern. Also true, though Weiren thinks Vicouryn would not fall so easily to such tactics.

“There is another thing as well,” Dormin says, “we do have reason to believe that she has a grand purpose for all of this. She seems to be making these decisions in a very calculated sort of fashion. She wants something out of this whole war, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she intends to control most if not the entire continent in order to fulfill this purpose, though we’re not entirely sure what it is at the moment.”

Weiren’s got their theories on what she’s doing, but they still don’t know the why. 

“Well, that’s why it’s our job to stop her, isn’t it,” Yahsan says with an unintimidated smirk, crossing a leg over the over, “She sounds like an interesting woman. We’ll have to do our best to take her down. The battle line in the north has been drawn, and we found our ground; we’ll hold it there. It’s a shame that you’re going to have to leave us so soon, Rundahl.” Yahsan tilts his head towards the older man as he addresses him. “I know that your city is on the first path from Vangath. If you’re on the way there, Crystal Concord, maybe lend the old man a hand. It’s going to be tough to defend against those people when we’re already dedicated to a different war front.” With Brauven to the north and Vangath to the east, it certainly will be a war of multiple battles.

“Is there any information on what’s happening with the countries between us and Vangath?” Weiren inquires. They’d spent quite a long time in Rura, the main kingdom separating the two enemies. There’s a few other countries, too.

“Oh, our old neighbor Rura, has opened their borders for the Vangath crusade,” Yahsan says, “part of some old treaty they signed many years ago. It’s a shame. As for the other nations near Brauven, I can’t say they’ve been faring very well. News is spotty at best, but we know a few of them, at least the majority of their territory has fallen under Brauven’s grasp. They were not prepared to fight a war against an overwhelming force. Many of them were complacent, assuming that the status quo would keep things still long enough for them to be comfortable. Not so for us, fortunately. We’ll do our best to restore order across the country.”

So not just Ashana, but Huzal, Trettal, and Voturland, too, all fell to Brauven. That’s worrying.

“Well, there is some business we’d like to discuss with you, but any final reports can be made now. Anything else you need to share with us before we move on?” The king continues, gesturing to the Concord. 

“Well, regarding Vangath, it’s difficult to say how deep their loyalties to Brauven lie. We also have some personal matters to attend to, there, so we will be moving in that direction.” Dormin nods. Weiren winces again; returning to Vangath, now of all times, seems like a fun new nightmare to put on top of everything else that’s happening.

“We’ll be looking into what’s going on there. Maybe we’ll be able to get an inside look at their connection with Brauven,” Kainen appends. Weiren’s pretty certain that whatever connection there is must be a deeply entrenched one, especially because it sounded like Arkova was communicating directly with the Bishop of the Vangath Republic in one of their many visions.

Oh, right, the visions. Weiren shoots a quick glance at their allies. None of the kings know about the weird spiritual connection that three of the Crystal Concord seems to share with Arkova. That seems like prudent information to share, but they suppose they’ll have to discuss the matter with their friends later.

“Any information you can bring us about what goes on beyond those walls could prove useful in stalling this crusade,” Vicouryn returns. It surely is a holy crusade, isn’t it? At least, that was the official message that they sent out into the world.

“Three of us from this group do hail from Vangath,” Weiren says, “and things were not great when we left. It did seem as if some kind of corruption was taking over much of that country, squashing out some of the lesser-worshipped deities, assassinations, murder, and I’m not sure if any of it could have anything to do with Brauven, but it is something to note.”

“Hmm,” Vicouryn says, casting her eyes towards them, “corruption running through the  _ powerful _ religious people. Who could have seen that coming?” As stoic as her voice is, the derision is clear, and for a second Weiren has to wonder if that’s something pointed at them, but that makes no sense? But Weiren is religious, and also from Vangath. She leans back in her chair, raising a hand to tap at her cheek.

The High Kings share a look as the information flow slows, and King Yahsan nods, turning back to address the Concord.

“Anyway,” Yahsan says, “we have a proposition for you, Crystal Concord. Considering how useful you’ve proven to make yourself, we are looking to gather whatever resources we can find. Like how I’ve done with my Key Hunters, the other kings have realized that it can be useful to have assets other than a standing military and our usual cadre of spies and merchants. We would be willing to offer you, Crystal Concord, a special emergency military position to help better your service to Doluum, and earn a few benefits of your own, if you were willing to swear your allegiance to our cause. In a way, you would be knighted. You have proven yourselves powerful, of good moral standing, and useful allies to have. Doluum needs people like you; I have been made aware that you have several friends in Doluum, and that the other nations have disappointed you with how things have been done. If that’s the case, no need to beat around the bush any further. Swear your allegiance to us three High Kings, and you will be given special permissions, payment, resources, and missions to help further our cause and make sure the Doluum Alliance stands strong after this time of conflict. What say you all?”

Weiren’s eyes widen after the first few sentences. Swearing allegiance to a nation not of their origin? Knighthood? That’s… a very big decision. Though they have no qualms about swearing to their deity, the last person they sort of served turned out to be incredibly corrupt. But this time they’d be swearing to three different leaders, the three High Kings. King Rudahl, King Yahsan, and Queen Vicouryn.

“This… is an interesting proposition,” they say quickly, “but definitely one that requires more time to discuss, I think.” 

“I know that I don’t speak for this group, but I personally believe that this Empress Arkova has made her intentions quite plain to the world. It seems that there needs to be forces that rise up against her,” Dormin says after them, “I would be willing, though again, I do not speak for the four of us.”

Weiren blinks in surprise; the other paladin is quick to make his decision on the matter, though the others are less so.

“What duties would you have us perform?” Lynne asks cautiously. 

Weiren sighs, looking across the three kings and then down at the floor, wondering. They don’t particularly like the idea of being tethered down to a nation, but really there’s not much else to do with the war going on. They’ve already accomplished their original goal, as best they can at least, and learned more about the ley lines. What else are they supposed to do now but work with the Crystal Concord, which has already established itself as an ally to Doluum from their past deeds? It’s still hard to think of themself as one who has had direct contact with royalty as high as these three, considering where they came from. Lost in the streets of Vangath, stumbling with no direction but to survive, Weiren was practically nothing. Perhaps they’ve become a paladin, but their priest was corrupt and their aim was vague. Could they really be a knight? A knight is like a hero, to many perceptions. Is Weiren worthy of such a title? Have they come that far? 

When they come back to the conversation, the talk has turned as Kainen asks what can be done for his people if he does swear his loyalty. It appears that the three kings will allow an amount of land to be given to the displaced Ashanan refugees, and let them be a vassal state of some sort for the time being, and perhaps, in the future, they can grow to something even more. The scion certainly has a lot riding on his decision. Lynne has her reservations, too.

“Might we have a chance to discuss this as a group before making any decisions?” Weiren asks, frankly intimidated by the whole thing.

“You may,” King Rundahl says, prompting a sigh of relief from Lynne, “We will reconvene tomorrow before the discussions on the war effort. It is then you will give us your answer. I know it is a difficult and intimidating thing to swear, but in a way it strengthens us. To know that when you swear allegiance, you join with so many like-minded people for a great cause. And I will be remiss not to admit that I will find it quite exciting to have a group of adventurers like yourselves serving our people in the best way they can. I’m sure you all have plenty of stories I’m going to need to have told to me in detail,” he continues, and then coughs, “at a later time, that is.”

At that, Weiren lets a little smile form on their face. King Rundahl is quite an interesting man, and he has quite a fondness for the Crystal Concord. They do not have much issue with helping him, but again, swearing allegiance is a lot...

Their gaze turns back to Vicouryn, and they find she’s looking at them, too. Weiren exhales, blinking.

They’re not sure what to do, and they dip their head in respect.

The High Kings dismiss the Crystal Concord, and they take their leave.

***

“So, what do we all think about this?” Dormin starts, addressing the whole party. Now in a more private place, the Crystal Concord has an opportunity to discuss the High Kings’ proposal of knighthood.

“I’m in a difficult position,” Kainen says, “there’s a lot riding on it for me and my people. Accepting it would ensure my people’s safety for the time being, but moving forward it’s hard to say for sure what effect this will have.” It’s true, what with the remnants of Ashana currently in a refugee camp on the eastern side of Gedal. They will certainly benefit from an actual place to stay.

“As far as I’m concerned,” Lynne interjects, “I can’t accept this offer. I don’t want to be tethered to this nation even if they seem like they’ve been good people. In order to make that kind of commitment, I’d need to have something that shows me I can put more trust in them.”

Weiren doesn’t like the idea of being tethered to a nation either. Certainly, the kings have done right by them so far, but they’ve had their fair share of experience with corrupted figures of power. They wonder what Vicouryn specifically thinks about this whole thing.

Out of the corner of their eye, Weiren sees a familiar cloaked figure enter the inn. Walking in with purpose, she talks briefly with an attendant, and then takes notice of the Concord. With a wave of her hand she dismisses the attendant and heads over. As she approaches she draws back her hood, letting it fall around her shoulders and revealing her wavy brown hair. Cecilia Rundahl, heir to the throne of Kohson, pulls a chair over and drops into it unceremoniously, familiar enough with the Crystal Concord to forego certain levels of formality.

“Wow,” she says, taking in the site of each concerned member, “Sometimes I wonder if I will ever see the Crystal Concord without stress etched in their faces again. It makes those days leaving Kohson seem so far away.”

“Just some fun lines to add to the character of our faces,” Weiren jokes, glad to see her again. The Concord has known her a good amount of time, and it’s nice to talk to her without trudging through a dark cave for days on end while fleeing a murderous empire.

“Certainly our faces are just permanently like that, now,” Dormin adds with a chuckle.

“I think you all make it work,” she shoots back, smirking, “So what exactly has my old travel friends so wound up tonight?”

“Oh, you know,” Weiren answers dryly, “just, uh, the possibility of swearing fealty to Doluum for the rest of our lives.” Lynne nods in agreement, still concerned but also glad to see Cecilia.

“Well,” Cecilia says, leaning back in her chair, “ _ I  _ would appreciate it. Though of course, you could always swear yourselves to me instead. There is still that whole deal of a debt unpaid, after all.”

Weiren swallows. They don’t even know how deep of a debt they’re still in, for Cecilia to use her own lifeline: an amulet of resurrection, on Kainen, scion of Ashana. They, Lynne and Dormin glance briefly at the aforementioned scion.

“What do you mean by swearing to you?” He asks, undeterred by the looks thrown his way. Cecilia shrugs.

“I’m just saying that if you find the other High Kings unreliable, I’m always looking for useful servants,” she answers, “I’m going to be a queen in not too long, after all. The more knights, rooks, and bishops I have, the easier the game will get, though perhaps that’s a bad analogy.” A fairly Cecilia-esque response, Weiren thinks, though the comparison of the war to a game reminds them a bit too much of Empress Arkova.

“Cecilia, we’re in a difficult position,” Kainen says, “Your father and the other High Kings have offered us this knighthood, but we all have our concerns about swearing loyalty for the rest of our lives. I’m willing to uphold the ideals of peace and unity of the alliance, but people, rulers, countries, politics, those are all different matters. You’re going to be in the leadership of the future and I at least would be comforted in the knowledge that you would ensure these ideals were upheld.” Weiren, too, would be comforted knowing Cecilia would be one of the leaders of the future, but at the same time, she has a certain skeptical approach to some things. Overall, they’re pretty sure she would be a fine queen, as long as she doesn’t fall to corruption by her power.

There’s a solid pause as Cecilia takes in everything the scion says.

“That,” she replies, “was a very long way of saying you hope I’m a nice queen. I won’t make any promises. As a scion of Ashana, I would have thought you might have understood the difficulties of being the one in charge. I don’t want to phrase this in an… offensive way but sometimes, being nice, quiet, and keeping to yourself won’t protect you, as I’m sure you know.”

Weiren stays quiet as Cecilia continues, talking about the responsibilities of leadership. It makes sense there are difficult decisions to be made, with lives at cost especially in wartime. How many choices like that has Vicouryn had to make in her time as queen?

“As for the whole swearing yourselves to the kings, you all understand  _ why _ they want this oath, right?” She carries on, glancing at each member, “I mean, you’ve all demonstrated to most that you're people of a certain standard of moral fiber. When you’re this strong with this many weapons and this much magic, that’s saying a lot. Plus, you’ve already done our country a service; that gains you trust if anything else. Nobody doubts that you’re probably good people. What they want, though,” she pauses, letting her words sink in, “is to make sure they know that you’re good people on  _ their  _ side. Neutrality is a dangerous thing, because it means that no matter how much you talk to this person in front of you, you’ll never know what side they end up falling on. You’ll never know if they’ll turn on you.”

Weiren can understand wanting a level of security in knowing that the Crystal Concord is on their side. They feel like for the most part, they definitely will be, too. But swearing means tethering, and the last time Weiren swore an oath, they found out their leader was corrupt. Certainly, from what they’ve seen, Weiren thinks they can mostly assume that King Rundahl and Cecilia Rundahl will do the right thing. King Yahsan is a bit more aggressive and assertive, and Vicouryn… well, she will be doing what she can to neutralize the threat and protect her people. They aren’t so naive as to assume she will be a kind and openly benevolent leader, though certainly she will be effective.

“Anyway, it makes sense to me why they’d ask you this. They might not have told you this, but the idea of a knight order was pretty much brought up the day they started meeting,” she informs them, and Weiren’s surprised at that. At most, King Yahsan briefly mentioned it as a possibility after the Crystal Concord escaped Gishal, but they didn’t think it was anything beyond a compliment of some sort. “There’s a good reason for them to make an order now that they’re convening. Something powerful to serve Doluum that isn’t intrinsically tied to just one of them, you know? Spreading out accountability and responsibility to a group that doesn’t have to answer to any one of them in particular means that they’ve created a set of eyes to make sure that there’s a certain status quo. Of course,” she gestures with a hand, “knights can’t directly overrule their lords, but they want someone that listens to all three of them, if you know what I’m saying.”

“Well,” Dormin speaks up, “I, for one, see this as a grand opportunity for the lot of us. If this is the time for us to make alliances with people, then perhaps we should take it. After all, we are the best judges of our character that we have, and if they ask us to do something that is against what we stand for, then honestly, they can go fuck themselves.” Weiren blinks. The party is certainly familiar with Cecilia but that seems like an incredibly bold thing to say, especially considering her soon-to-be status of queen. They glance at her quickly, and she’s concealing a laugh.

“I’m not hearing what you’re saying at this table,” she says, “considering that eventually you would all be  _ my  _ knights as well.”

“But of course,” Dormin answers, “we can trust you, right?”

“But can I trust you?” Cecilia returns, raising an eyebrow.

“Considering what you’ve done for us,” Weiren interjects, “I think yes, you can.” Resurrecting Kainen is probably going to be a lifelong debt that the group repays to her.

“If you believe that we’re good people, then you know we’ll help as long as we believe we’re helping good people. I may be somewhat biased, but I believe that you’re a good person,” Kainen pipes up, and Cecilia turns her gaze to him.

“Well,” she begins, “that’s quite the honor. I can’t say I hate the way you’re thinking about it, but I think it would work more on Dawson than it would on me. There’s good people on every side of every war, Kainen. What do you do? We can’t just rely on us being the good guys all the time. I’m sure the Brauven populace sees us as the biggest threat, the ‘dragon’ so to speak, that they need to take down, so that they can do whatever it is they’re aiming to do. This is why we need more than just loose and flimsy promises that as long as we’re good, good people will follow.”

There’s certainly a good point to be made. From what it sounds like, Brauven is retaliating for being forced to the northernmost edges of the continent where they have to struggle to survive, and there must be thousands of people behind their banner. Certainly many of them must be good people, too. Weiren’s going to need to do some studying, because history has a large say in why this war is even happening in the first place. They never were one to read up on such things, so admittedly their knowledge is lacking. Now that they’ve gotten so wrapped up in it, it’ll be good to get more context. Maybe then they can figure out Ana Arkova’s motives.

“Now, I’m not trying to say that I’m demanding anything of you, but I thought I may as well play the advocate for the High Kings here, since it seemed you were struggling with the decision,” Cecilia adds, “Just a fair warning though, you’re not the only ones they’re inviting. They are being pretty secretive, and I haven’t had a chance to meet any of them yet, but apparently every High King was expected to bring someone to put in this knight order. You know, providing their own subjects and swearing to the rest of the kings that they’d provide talented personnel to serve Doluum rather than just one of its leaders. From what I’ve seen on paper, the knight order is what you’d expect: protect Doluum, go out of your way to ensure the safety of its people, make sure the ideals and the laws of the land are upheld, that kind of stuff.”

The other kings brought their own people, too? Weiren can’t help but immediately wonder who Vicouryn could have brought. They don’t really remember meeting any particularly powerful fighters in Mevaden beyond, well, Varis, and Marie Neval.

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Kainen comments.

“Most knight orders have that same kind of stuff written about them, so take it however you want.” Cecilia crosses a leg over the other as she speaks, giving Kainen a gesture of her head.

“Interesting,” Weiren muses, “I wonder what these other possible knights are like, and if we’ve met any of them before.”

“I’m sure they’re going to be interesting people if they’re as strong as you. Usually that ends up attracting some eccentrics.” Cecilia waves her hand, and Weiren briefly wonders if that’s a comment she’s making about their group.

“Makes sense,” they say.

“Unfortunately, I don’t know any of their names or personalities,” Cecilia confesses, shaking her head, “I haven’t had a chance to meet them, though I assume they’re all somewhere in the city. The kings are looking to make this happen sooner than later. Since they’re going to be having to part ways in the coming weeks, well, this is their best chance to have any sort of knighting ceremony, for now at least.”

“Well,” Weiren nods, “thank you for that information, and for your perspective. It’s good to talk to you again, even if it hasn’t been that long since the last time.”

“You’re welcome,” Cecilia returns with a small smirk, “though it feels like it’s been a long time. On what I’d like to say is a happier note, but it depends on how you feel about me, my father and I will be taking a trip back to Kohson soon, and Dawson will be riding along. If you still have plans to go to Vangath, we can always invite you along in the caravan and make the trip back together.”

Gods, that would make the travel way easier, and it’ll be nice to be on the move with Cecilia, Dawson and Maia again.

“Well, I think we’d love to accompany you like old times,” Weiren says, giving her an earnest smile. Cecilia reclines in her seat, nodding.

“Excellent. I’ll make sure to let my father know. And, I’m sure Dawson will be pleased as peach.”

“How are you and Dawson getting along, anyway?” Kainen asks, leaning forward with a curious look. Cecilia tilts her head as she folds her hands on her knee.

“Well, you know what they say. Going through trials and tribulations will strengthen any bond,” she says, glancing down at her hands briefly. “Dawson is a good man, maybe a bit naive, but, overall, nice to have around.”

“I don’t think good and naive necessarily go hand in hand as you seem to be putting them,” Kainen says with a small frown, and Cecilia lets out a small chuckle.

“With Dawson, though, I find the description apt,” she says, and Weiren tilts their head, looking at her curiously. They have their suspicions about Cecilia and Dawson, especially after all the things that have happened to the two of them while traveling with the Concord. Cecilia has quite a cavalier attitude, but Weiren thinks there’s probably some amount of affection hidden behind it. They think the two of them compliment each other quite well.

“And how are the rest of you?” Cecilia continues, turning the question back onto the group before her. “I mean, traveling together for so long, a group of  _ handsome  _ and  _ charming  _ individuals like yourself, surely  _ something  _ must have happened by now.”

Weiren has to fight their body to stop any reaction from surfacing, because immediately Queen Vicouryn comes to mind, though of course their relationship isn’t a typical one. Not a romantic one, certainly, not the kind of thing Cecilia must be talking about, right? Or a.. Um… a more physical one...

“What do you mean?” Kainen asks, and Weiren presses their lips together and looks at him with… some kind of an expression. Oh no.

“Oh, Kainen, maybe you’re not quite old enough yet.” Cecilia looks at him with a pitiful smile. “I’m sure you could ask one of the other scions to teach you. Laref sounds like he has some experience. Brie, I think she has some surprising encounters. Maybe… don’t ask Nyla, though. I only met her briefly, but she didn’t seem like the type to have ventured too far in that area.”

Weiren is aghast to see Kainen’s expression of confusion only deepen; he actually still doesn’t understand what Cecilia’s trying to say. They sneak a glance at Lynne and Dormin, but find the two of them to have fairly impassive faces, and seem content to just bear witness to what Cecilia is laying down.

“How- how old were you again, Kainen?” Cecilia inquires, and Weiren feels the secondhand embarrassment take deep root within them. Certainly Weiren knows that Kainen has had next to no experience, and frankly, so do they, but they at least have the knowledge to ascertain what Cecilia’s talking about. Romance novels can do a lot to improve one’s understanding of such a thing.

“Twenty,” Kainen answers, “almost twenty-one.” Weiren has the urge to cover their face. Even if plenty of humans don’t necessarily engage in such practices until later in life, certainly by their teens they should at least  _ know  _ about it, right?

“That’s impressive,” Cecilia returns, “what did they even teach you in Ashana?” Gods, they can’t let this continue.

“Well, I mean,” Weiren cuts in, and despite their best efforts there’s definitely some kind of heat to their face, “just considering everything that’s going on and all the stuff we’ve been doing, um, I’m not sure that there’s been any time for anything like that to really develop.”

“T-they taught me how to fight,” Kainen says, “and how to communicate with the spirits-”

“Well, I suppose I can see how this might be possible,” Cecilia sighs, shaking her head before fixing Weiren with a disappointed look. “Honestly, Weiren, as a friend to poor Kainen, you should be  _ ashamed  _ that you haven’t taught him about this yet. I thought traveling to strange places and new cities would be the perfect time to experiment with this kind of thing. The poor boy doesn’t know what I’m talking about!”

At this, Weiren’s blush intensifies. As if  _ they  _ could even have anything to teach a human fresh out of his teens, when they’ve barely done anything besides a single kiss that didn’t go anywhere. And, well… perhaps… share modest companionship with a vampire queen… who has bitten their neck twice by now… and stroked their hair… and held them when they slept… and… hold on...

“Experiment with what?” Kainen asks, still completely oblivious. Frankly Weiren can’t even understand why Dormin and Lynne haven’t said anything yet; how can they handle the sheer embarrassment of this whole conversation?

“Look at this!” Cecilia tsks, “You should be ashamed of yourselves, all three of you.”

Weiren covers their face with a hand. Really out of everyone it should be Lynne’s fault, right? And Dormin’s, too. Both of them are the only ones in the party who have had any amount of romantic and p-physical intimacy experience. Sexual experience. Agh. Realistically from their experiences so far, there’s only one person who that might occur with for Weiren, right? Just a few more steps beyond the current actions of their meetings-  _ Shit _ . No, don’t think about that. She would never- that- absolutely not. Weiren has to cut that train of thought off quickly. Just rewind before that, back to fingers stroking down their hair and arms around them- oh gods stop. They force themself back to the present. That’s not romance. It’s just- stop.

“She’s talking about romance, Kainen,” Weiren says from behind their hand, unable to bring themself to say the other word. This is too much. Their brain is being forcibly attacked by the present and their own traitorous thoughts. The idea that Cecilia might somehow read their face and learn that they’re fraternizing- no they aren’t doing  _ that _ , they’re simply engaged in a  _ contract  _ for  _ professional business _ reasons, that’s all it is, but- 

Cecilia doesn’t need to know anything.

“Oh,” Kainen says softly, and Weiren looks up in time to see his face go bright red, though they’re still partially distracted by images of Queen Vicouryn flashing in their head. Fuck. The scion sinks in his chair, arms coming to cross in front of him. “I knew that.”

This kills a man.

Lowering their hand, Weiren can see that Dormin too has a pink tinge to his face. Really, even Dormin? The inspiring leader who gushes charisma and confidence is reacting like this? He couldn’t even come to Kainen’s rescue?

“Well, I learned something about all of you tonight,” Cecilia says with an amused smile, “Not what I expected, though.” Weiren is mortified, on behalf of the entire group.

“A-and I’m sure you have many tales of your own exploits to share?” Weiren asks weakly, hoping to turn the conversation onto her to end the shame of the Crystal Concord. Lynne must be the only saving grace in this topic, but she doesn’t say a single word, branding their entire party as a group of inexperienced virgins, which Weiren is pretty certain is only half true? 

Either way, Cecilia will never forget this. How could this have happened?

“Actually, now I know that I can’t share them because it might be a little too much,” Cecilia says, shaking her head. Weiren won’t lie; they  _ are  _ curious considering exactly who Cecilia is, but they aren’t about to express interest.

“I’m sure you don’t need to share any details,” Kainen mutters, keeping his eyes down and still with a very prominent blush.

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” There’s a second as Cecilia looks at all four of them again, almost disbelieving. She looks like she’s learned a fun secret that she won’t be forgetting anytime soon. Weiren wonders if she might hold such knowledge over their heads in the future.

“If you need to go lay down for a bit Kainen… you seem a little…” Lynne says, looking sympathetically at Kainen, who’s sunk so far down that his head is barely visible.

“Overwhelmed?” Dormin finishes for her with his own amused smile. Cecilia coughs.

“I do apologize for distracting you from the important decision you have to make, tonight,” she says, making Weiren sigh in relief. Finally, they can move past that, and stop thinking about things like romance, or love, or touch, or vampires-

“It’s no big deal,” they say, still dealing with the emotional rollercoaster of whatever the hell just happened. They can just stop thinking, right? “It was fun to at least leave that serious stuff behind for a bit. It was nice to talk with you.” Nice, but gods at what cost? Who knows how much psychic damage was dealt by Cecilia’s words? Certainly Kainen will be needing to recover for at least a few days. Weiren’s head is still spinning. Pale skin, black hair-  _ no _ .

“If you’d like, I can leave you all to discuss the rest amongst yourself. I know I’m not exactly a neutral party in this, so go ahead and speak what you will without prying ears,” Cecilia says, rising from her chair with a nod of her head. 

“Alright, have a good night,” Weiren calls after her as she departs, still fighting their fluster, and the rest of the Concord sans Kainen offer their own goodbyes as well.

There’s a pause as they watch Cecilia turn a corner and vanish from sight.

“That was… an interesting conversation that I didn’t really expect to have with someone like her,” Weiren says, slowly, turning back to the party. They press both hands to their face, sighing heavily.

“Yes,” Dormin says in amusement, “it got a little blue halfway through, didn’t it?” 

“I don’t know how she expects us to have that sort of thing on our minds when we’ve been so busy with all this other stuff,” Kainen huffs, still quiet and adequately defeated.

“I uh, I don’t think she’s really experienced uh- I mean, Cecilia has some experience with the war directly what with the events in Gishal, but I mean, she hasn’t had to deal with all these things that we have, you know?” Weiren hurries to say. “I don’t think any of us have really had much time to pursue anything like that, except for maybe Lynne? Since you did go on that date with uh, Rhuson back in Kandor. Did that- did that go anywhere?”

Weiren remembers that they all left Rhuson back in Keld, but they left the tavern partway through the date and didn’t get to see if anything spicy occurred.

“No,” Lynne says pointedly, though she fixes Weiren with a vaguely accusing stare. The paladin glances away, suddenly feeling a bit of sweat on the back of their neck. Right, because Lynne has her own assumptions about Weiren’s experiences, which are patently  _ not  _ what she’s thinking. It’s just an arrangement, nothing more.

“He seemed like a nice man, though,” they say.

Another pause as that particular topic of conversation comes to an end.

“Well, regarding the whole knighthood,” Weiren tries, turning the discussion back to the more important issue at hand, “Despite our reservations, I’ll probably go ahead with it anyway. After all, it’s not like I have much of anywhere to really return to with my previous allegiances,” they confess, heaving another sigh at the thought of Vangath, “I’m just kind of floating around with you all right now.” They’re not much of anything beyond a member of the Crystal Concord, which has already established itself as an ally to Doluum in some regard.

“I’m still not fond of the idea of serving someone,” Lynne says, “If the rest of you decide to swear, I’ll still be here with you, but I’m not sure that I can actually make that commitment.”

“The most important thing is that none of us should feel like we’re being dragged into anything they don’t want to commit to. After all, this is a very serious commitment,” Dormin says.

“It is,” Weiren agrees, “it’s just that the war has been rough and we could really use all the help we can get. And Ashana, too, could use the help that Doluum will give with Kainen’s oath.”

“Huh?” Kainen jumps at being addressed, still not having fully recovered from what transpired. Poor kid.

“Just… talking about the knighthood,” Weiren says, closing their eyes. 

It certainly is a big decision to make.

A voice in Weiren’s head says that swearing the oath to Doluum technically means they’re swearing allegiance to Queen Vicouryn, and Weiren makes a point to push that thought away.

  
  



	14. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiren and Vicouryn find each other again, properly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spice Time Lads

Spending the nights in the untamed wilds of Kandor really forced Weiren to somehow become even lighter of a, well, meditater. The only actual sleep they had, they're pretty sure, was when the Crystal Concord was forcibly tranquilized for their delivery to the Brauven Empire. Otherwise, most nights were spent on guard, keeping eyes out for dangerous monsters and vengeful forest spirits. As a result, they’ve been more aware of their surroundings, always having to be on their toes.

So, for the first time (despite being fairly engrossed in writing these missives), Weiren senses the shift in the air, and sees Queen Vicouryn  _ before  _ she’s reached them. It’s that familiar aura, except they are much more used to it by now.

She’s little more than a vague shape in the darkness, as night has fallen and there is not much light in the royal library. Thanks to King Yahsan and having provided all the information they did, Weiren was given access to the king’s own collection of knowledge, which, after having a conversation with Ana Arkova, seemed prudent to peruse in order to gain a better understanding of the world and the war. After their audience with the kings and talking with Cecilia, Weiren made their way back to the castle to request entry to the library and spend some time doing research. As usual, they found the most isolated area and took up a spot in an alcove in the back corner of the room.

Weiren has been working alongside a candle, and the dim firelight fades out in a small radius around them. Most of those in the castle are already asleep, as it must be getting close to midnight, they guess, so the torches and sconces are, for the most part, put out, and they’re alone in the library with the queen.

At first, Weiren isn’t actually sure that it’s her, and they tense, but their fears are assuaged quickly by the sound of the queen’s voice.

“I did not take you for one to spend their time studying after so dangerous a journey,” she says, approaching until the soft orange glow barely touches upon her pale face. Weiren hurries to their feet, uncertain of where they now stood with regards to the queen after the month spent apart. There’s a part of them that wants to just run and throw their arms around her and just stay there, but there’s etiquette and diplomacy to be had, right? Besides, with so much time passed it’s possible she’s changed her mind about their whole arrangement.

“Your majesty,” Weiren begins, uncertainly, and dips into a bow as the queen reaches their table, a brow gently raised. She doesn’t answer at first, waiting and watching, and Weiren remembers what she’d told them the last time that they were together. They swallow nervously. “Um, Vicouryn,” they try, and the queen makes the slightest smile.

“Weiren,” she returns, apparently pleased, and Weiren sighs in relief; it is a delight to hear their name in her voice after these weeks, “it has been some time.”

“Yes,” Weiren agrees. A small voice in their head says,  _ I missed you _ , but of course they don’t say that. That would imply a different kind of intimacy. Seeing her again is so strange, especially when she isn’t reclining in a throne among the other kings. They’re uncertain how to feel. It was less than a week ago that they’d come to terms with the fact that she was the one they thought of when at death’s door. The queen looks down at them, only a few inches taller, but it always feels like she’s towering, with a calculating gaze. Now finally alone with her again for the first time since Mevaden, Cecilia’s words flash back in their mind.  _ Surely, something must have happened by now… _ With that statement comes Weiren’s  _ other  _ thoughts that occurred during that conversation. They scream internally, trying to think of anything but the prospect of going too far with the queen. 

“I see you’ve been putting my gift to good use,” she says, lowering her gaze to where Weiren’s been working, and they leap gratefully onto that topic, eager to stop thinking about Cecilia smirking at the party while they imagine all sorts of impossible scenarios in their mind. Very improper scenarios that do not have any place being in their head.

“Yes, of course,” Weiren answers, nodding, “I uh, I was meaning to give it back to you once there was time-”

She waves a hand at their brief fluster, shaking her head.

“You may keep it,” she says calmly, “I am glad you are getting much use of it, and I have several more.”

“Oh! Are you… certain?” the paladin asks, a little taken aback, though it is true that they’ve used it quite a lot.

The queen nods. They blink in response, looking down at the black quill lying on the table. It’s been through quite the journey, and they were looking forward to giving it back to the queen, though they suppose it’s nice to know that they’ll be able to keep a remnant of her with them going forward. Hmm, they have conflicted feelings over it. A gift for them to keep forever?

“Though, I am curious to know what you are working on,” She says pointedly, phrasing her question so as to not be an actual question in a very Vicouryn-esque way. Weiren lets out a breath in amusement, it’s so familiar.

“I’ve been… compiling information for you and other kings,” they say carefully, making quite the effort to school their own face. That’s a whole other source of anxiety; how will the queen deal with the knowledge that Weiren and their friends are spiritually connected to the Brauven empress? They’ve been recording down copies of all the visions they’ve had, but the High Kings aren’t supposed to receive them until tomorrow at the earliest. “I’ll be handing them in tomorrow or the day after, probably, if I finish writing it soon.” Hopefully the queen isn’t impatient and won’t rush to read what they’ve written now. They have a feeling she will be quite perturbed. Somewhere inside they fear she’ll be so disappointed that she’ll cut off their whole arrangement.

“How practical,” Vicouryn says, her eyes lingering on the papers for only a few seconds before turning her attention back to them. Phew. It’ll have to be something they deal with tomorrow, once all the information is prepared and properly recorded. “And how are you feeling about our proposition to the Crystal Concord?”

Oh, right, yes. Knighthood.

“I… I’m not sure,” Weiren admits, “It’s a lot to consider.” They watch her carefully, a little worried about expressing reticence considering they’d be swearing to  _ her  _ in addition to the other kings.

“It is,” she agrees, letting a hand rest on the edge of the chair closest to her, fingers gently tapping. Weiren automatically imagines that hand on their shoulder, but they shake their head. They still don’t know if that’s still happening. Sure, Vicouryn back in Mevaden said that their arrangement could continue, but it has been a month, and she very well could have changed her mind since then. “Well, I suppose I’ll leave that decision for you to consider overnight. There are other matters to discuss, after all.”

Other matters indeed. They look up at her, eyes wide, already feeling butterflies of anxiety beginning to flit around in their stomach.

“I will not make any assumptions. Let me be direct; I understand that certain perceptions and opinions may change over time,” she says, keeping a couple feet away from them. “I am interested in learning whether you wish to continue our agreement; I do not wish to force you to do anything you do not want, and…” she pauses, considering her words, “I would understand if you would wish to stop.” There’s a faint tone of resignation that Weiren thinks they hear, but again it is so hard to truly read the queen’s expressions. Thank Celaste Moren though, that she brought it up, for Weiren was a little scared of having to be the one to broach the subject first.

But what she said…

Weiren stares. Vicouryn thinks Weiren would even consider leaving their meetings behind? Why would they ever think such a thing? Frankly  _ Weiren  _ is the one worrying if Vicouryn would want to keep going, how can she even be concerned about them? 

They take a single step forward, reducing the space between them until it’s a distance one would usually call inappropriate for a commoner and a queen. They watch her eyes, trying to understand her thoughts while trying to show off their own. Weiren’s terrified that the queen is trying to politely cut them off, but upon second glance it really seems as if she’s fully expecting Weiren to decline her. She is afraid of them leaving? No… this can’t… it can’t be true.

Either way, they can’t let it end, not after waiting so long to see her again.

“Of course not,” they breathe, and then they are surprised at themself for such an intense reply. They don’t know if that is too much. There’s the briefest hint of a reaction in Vicouryn's face, her eyes widening ever-so-slightly, and then it’s gone.

“I see,” she answers in a collected manner. Weiren prays that she is happy with their answer, but they can’t be sure. “Then, I suppose we may continue.” With a wave of her hand, the candle magically extinguishes, plunging them into darkness. 

There’s a second where Weiren’s elvish eyes quickly adjust to the change in light, and suddenly she’s coming closer. A step, and then another, and then another, as Weiren backs up in time, unsure what to expect. She’s not reaching out or anything, just walking right up to them until they feel the wall against their back. The queen’s hand comes to rest on the wall beside their head, just a few inches away, and she leans over them, still with an unreadable expression and a burning gaze. Weiren won’t lie; they’re intimidated, but they don’t… fear her, exactly. Well, maybe a little, but it’s anticipation before anything else. Immediately again there’s Cecilia’s mischievous smirk as Weiren’s stupid brain comes up with images of more intimate touches and caresses that they try to push away. There’s no point in thinking up anything; whatever will happen is going to happen, and it will be with Vicouryn, and so it will be fine.

Somewhere they’re reminded of the cheap romance novel that they read back in Kandor. There was a scene quite like this, with one person against the wall and the other leaning over them. They shake their head, now’s not the time...

But back to the present… is she trying to drink from them again?

Weiren considers their options as the queen yet again ceases motion, perhaps waiting to see what they will do.

They breathe, deeply, trying to calm down despite the pounding in their chest, and make a choice. Weiren breaks off the eye contact first, turning their head to the side and leaning, looking instead past her pale wrist. They’ve bared their neck. Certainly that’s a respectable and professional action to take, right? She has drunk their blood before. Cecilia can’t make fun of that, right? No, she- Weiren doesn’t want to think about that woman finding out about anything.

A beat passes as the queen leans even closer, and they close their eyes, heart pounding in their ears. What if instead of taking their blood, she was going to leave marks of another kind? What if she was going to do what lovers would do, and kiss up their neck?  _ Fuck _ .

“Weiren,” a voice says, close to their ear, sending shivers down their back, and Weiren can hear  _ amusement  _ in her tone, “you know I have already replenished myself. It is not necessary for you to offer any more blood to me. I hope you do not feel obligated to do so; our arrangement stands without it.”

Oh, um. Well. That’s embarrassing. Weiren’s heartbeat speeds up even more as they feel their face heat up, and they sneak a glance back at her, where her expression is equally subtly amused.

“I- um, I mean,” they say, clearing their throat, “yes, I know.” 

They fall off after that, not sure what to say, and the silence is deafening.

A cold hand brushes against their neck, and Weiren gulps. Gentle fingers slide down the side until they hook onto the hem of their collar, pulling it aside. The hand then rests, fingertips held just over their collarbone where the queen last bit them.

“You… enjoy this?” Vicouryn asks, insightfully reading their thoughts and tapping once on the mark. Though her voice is as stoic as always, Weiren’s pretty sure they can hear judgement or disgust or something. The shame amplifies and they force themself to just stare out into the darkness, unable to look back and see what must be disapproval. The queen doesn’t even like to drink blood when she doesn’t need to, right? They’re a fool. Weiren doesn’t want to answer; the queen will no doubt see through any lies.

The hand shifts up to instead lightly hold their chin, chilling them, and she turns their head back to face her, though Weiren’s squeezed their eyes shut to hide.

“I would like an answer,” she says softly, and the paladin finally looks at her, nervous and fearful, but there’s nothing in her face but concern and curiosity, no apparent judgement. They swallow again; there should be nothing to fear. She has always been very considerate to them in their moments together. They just have to hold back all of their other mounting curiosities.

Weiren nods once against her hand, still prepared for any kind of rejection. Instead, she just quietly looks at them in an assessing manner.

“Interesting,” she says, finally, “and fortunate, for me.” 

Weiren lets out a breath of surprise. Fortunate?

“Then, may I?” Vicouryn asks. Still not quite believing it, Weiren nods again.

The queen adjusts her hands, Weiren watching as she reaches down from the wall to take their wrist and hold it back up against the wood, like she’s pinning them to it, but it’s not forceful at all. Every motion is slow and deliberate and she’s watching for their reactions. With her other hand, she carefully pulls aside the fabric at their neck, where her previous bites have healed and most likely left some amount of scarring, but Weiren hasn’t been able to check. Her palm settles on their shoulder, the cloth slightly bunched underneath it as she keeps their neck visible.

“I was right, it seems,” She murmurs, “it did leave behind a scar.” Weiren blinks at this. The queen’s bite from over a month ago has remained on their body, healed but visible. “ _ Good. _ ”

She sounds quite pleased about it, and somewhere inside Weiren thinks they are, too.

There’s just something about it. Vicouryn’s first bite is what sent the two of them on this journey, after all. When she’s drinking their blood, there’s a level of connection that’s almost poetic. Two people, bound together in the moment by sharing vitality with one another. It’s a show of intimate trust, and the marks left behind are a reminder of their connection. Perhaps there is a bit of an ache afterwards, but everytime they notice it brings back the memories of their time together, and they want to hold onto those images.

Weiren wonders if the queen can intuit that they wish there was a little more to their arrangement with her. They don’t even know what more they actually want beyond a more intimate touch. She is already so trusting of them to even engage in this kind of agreement in the first place.

They’ve thought about the prospect of something like romance, briefly, but it’s always smothered by facts of status, lifestyle, and just sheer common sense. Weiren, for much of their childhood, grew up sleeping in the streets and begging for food. Queen Vicouryn’s family seems to have ruled Mevaden for centuries, and she clearly has grown up in wealth. Weiren is a paladin, and they have their duty to Celaste Moren and the Crystal Concord. For the foreseeable future, their life will be full of traveling and adventuring and fighting, while Vicouryn remains in Doluum, handling politics and her rule. Not to mention that there’s a war going on, with the Brauven Empire as well as Vangath intent on conquering Doluum. It is no time or place for a controversial relationship, and that doesn’t even take into the fact that Vicouryn isn’t even considering it in the first place.

Besides, Weiren knows, they have little to no experience in the matter, and it doesn’t seem likely that they will get any for a long time. They’re still struggling with their own perceptions of themself, and they don’t know how they can deal with the perceptions of others regarding them.

Weiren’s brought back to the present from their thoughts by the queen lowering her head towards them. It is coming. They exhale, a little shakily, relaxing their body, but there’s adrenaline pulsing through their veins. There almost always is around her.

“There will be no danger, this time,” she whispers, the cold breath blowing against their skin, “as I am no longer starved. However, if it ever gets to be too much, then do let me know.”

Weiren breathes again. She’s being incredibly considerate of them right now, and somewhere inside it aches.

“Okay,” they say back, so soft they can barely hear it, and they reach up to their shoulder to place their hand upon the queen’s. Something to hang onto, they suppose. As always her hand is soft and a bit cold against their body heat, but it is comforting to them. It’s so much more gentle than the last time she took from them, when she was all power and demanding and deprived of blood. This time they are not just lost in her grasp, but they are holding onto each other.

When the queen finally makes contact with their flesh, Weiren is surprised to not feel the sharp ends of her fangs on the side of their neck, but rather a soft touch of what must be her lips on the center of their collarbone. They blink, and freeze, willing their heart to stop pounding so they can pay attention to exactly what the queen is doing. Vicouryn slowly moves up and to the side, letting her lips brush against them as if testing their skin and searching for the most optimal location before actually proceeding. Weiren is glad that it is dark, because the blush coloring their face must be intensely vivid. Is she going to do what they were thinking about before? Leaving marks of another sort, mouthing at their skin up until she finds their lips? No, that’s impossible, Weiren knows, but their stupid brain just keeps thinking about it.

The queen must have noticed their shocked reaction through the twitch in their hand, because she laughs against their neck, tickling them. A second later, and she opens her mouth to bare her fangs. But apparently even that is not yet enough, for she continues to move, this time allowing the tips of her vampiric teeth to travel across their flesh, though not cutting into them at all. She rises even higher, where Weiren is certain that if she left a bite there, there would be no hiding it at all; it’d be far too high on the neck. But she does not choose that location, and instead she drifts back down, slowly, almost infuriatingly, like she’s intent on driving them mad. 

And they practically are. Weiren’s mind is running through so many thoughts that they all mush together. Disbelief, shock, joy? But they find they can’t move. They don’t want to move. What if moving somehow spoils whatever she is doing? Surely it isn’t what they were expecting but it feels so gentle and deliberate in a way that just makes them want more. But still, they’re wondering why Vicouryn is doing this. It feels like she’s going very far and over-performing beyond the terms of their vague agreement. Is she expecting them to do something similar for her? The thoughts are too much. They don’t understand her actions but they relish in the sensations. As always, she seems to know forms of touch that make them unravel on the spot. They want it to never end.

Finally, after what feels like too long and yet also not long enough, she returns to the lower side of their neck and carefully pierces their flesh. Right, of course, that’s what she was planning on doing this whole time, anyway. Certainly she isn’t looking to do anything more than take blood and share some contact. Weiren’s breath hitches at the intrusion, but they’re used to the sensation by now, and the blood begins to flow. The queen goes slow, controlling each swallow to make them last as long as possible without taking too much. There is no acceleration or a loss of control this time, just a steady and minor draining that Weiren relaxes into. It feels special, because as far as they know the queen never personally takes blood from anyone else. It’s something they can do for her that they're pretty sure no one else will. It makes them feel like they have value to her. Doesn't that make them special? Even if perhaps they’ll never go beyond this kind of relationship with the queen and never get any closer, it’s enough to at least know they can still have this.

Weiren tilts their own head forward slightly, just enough to press against the queen’s shoulder and feel more of her. Somewhere a voice pitches the idea of them touching back and pressing their own lips to her collarbone, but no, absolutely not, the queen would never allow something like that, of course not, and they are not brave enough to do that. A few seconds later, and her fangs withdraw, though she keeps her head positioned where it is, only allowing an inch or so of space between the new wound and her breath. Weiren feels the slight trickle of their blood from the punctures, although it is much less concerning than the last times they gave blood. The flow is far thinner.

“Allow me a moment,” she says against their neck, “it would be irresponsible of me to allow any staining.” With that, Weiren gasps again at the next sensation: another firm touch, but this one is  _ wet _ , and she can’t be doing what they think she’s doing, but she is. Starting low and ascending, the queen…  _ licks  _ up the stream of blood that’s begun to leak, effectively stopping it from getting into their tunic.

Weiren’s brain has cut out at this point, and they are just blinking in shock. Is this really happening? Even so, the queen continues, carefully tending to the area of the bite for a little while longer as Weiren tries to process it all. It’s so much more than they were expecting, and riding dangerously close to the scenarios that keep popping up in their head; Vicouryn is all they can think about and fortunately or unfortunately it’s making them internally combust. Would she touch them like this even if they weren’t giving her blood? Would she be this intimate just for their own pleasure?

Finally, Vicouryn leans back, apparently satisfied with her work to take in Weiren’s expression, which is still definitely flustered. Their mind is running a million miles a second with possibilities and impossibilities.

“Knowing that the bite can be painful, I did my best to ensure some amount of pleasure,” she says, matter-of-factly, “I do hope you found it more enjoyable than before.”

Weiren keeps staring at her, face still burning at the fact that Queen Vicouryn did what she did, and she tilts her head in response, feigning innocent confusion at their reaction, though there is no way she doesn’t know that it’s entirely her fault that their mind is completely scrambled. It’s like she’s toying with them. Does she know how much they enjoyed it? How much they feel like they could bask in that sensation forever?

“I just wasn’t expecting… that,” Weiren mumbles, trying to force their blush away, “you  _ know  _ I haven’t really… um… done… much...” Having little experience combined with Cecilia’s impromptu conversation about intimacy has forced their brain to run wild, imagining things they can never have except maybe perhaps they could now? After all, Vicouryn is this close already, and she’s coming even closer than before.

There’s a glint in Vicouryn’s eyes, reminiscent of her more predatory looks that makes Weiren have to look away for a moment.

“I-I mean, yes, it was uh, nice, I think,” they add, and there’s a slight satisfaction in her face at that, making their chest pound faster still, “it just seemed like more than we agreed to, uh. You don’t have to do that much, you know, for me-”

“Everything I do is because I choose to do it, Weiren,” the queen says, and she’s leaned back in to say it right next to their ear, “As long as you are comfortable with it, I will aim to do with you as I please.”

Wow.

Was- was that the arrangement that they made with her? Their attempts to fight the blood rushing to their face are ineffective in the face of the queen’s assertive words. Is she implying things beyond simple touch? Is she implying the actions that might come with partners in a more romantic relationship?

“For both of our benefit, of course,” the queen adds, and the hand on their shoulder drifts up to brush the long lock of hair hanging in front of Weiren’s face to the side, barely touching their cheek. Again, it is so soft and gentle and they cannot believe it’s directed at them. They wonder how much the queen views any of this as romantic, if she does at all, but surely she doesn’t because they both know this is just an agreement, not a relationship born of attraction.

The hand holding Weiren’s wrist against the wall slides down, lowering and letting go, and stupidly they find themself wishing it was still pinned up. No, stop that, too.

“If you have the time, perhaps you may accompany me to my study for an  _ appointment _ . I’m sure there’s much important information you’ve gathered from your journeys to report,” the queen states as she steps away, phrased in such a way as to somehow avoid being a plain suggestion. “It is not the same as my manor in Mevaden, but it will suffice.”

There’s relief as Weiren realizes that this isn’t the end of their meeting, and then anticipation at the possibility of what more could happen. Certainly more holding of one another, hopefully something a little more? Though they know the hopes are in vain, there’s no way.

“Of course,” they reply, and they gather up their papers and books under the watchful eye of Vicouryn, still with reddened cheeks. Their reports can definitely wait for the morning.

Weiren can feel their motions barely pull at the bite on their neck, and it feels familiar. They focus on that sensation instead, trying to calm their mind.

Once they’ve grabbed their things, the queen leads them through the darkened halls of the castle. The walls are spaced farther and the ceiling vaulted higher than the manor castle of Queen Vicouryn, making them feel small. Somehow they avoid any guard patrols the entire time; perhaps the queen is aware of them and purposefully picks a path to avoid detection. A few turns and staircases later, the queen stops at a door and pushes it open, revealing an ornate study room, though it’s a bit smaller than her personal one in Mevaden. There’s a wooden desk in the center of the room and a chair behind it. A few bookshelves line the wall, and to the side there’s another door, though Weiren isn’t sure what lies behind it. 

They don’t have to wonder for too long, though, because Queen Vicouryn strides towards it and enters, revealing another dark chamber. Weiren squints, following after her, and is taken aback to realize it’s a bedchamber.

An elegant, four-poster bed is against the left wall with bedside nightstands on either side. Across the room is a wardrobe and a vanity, and in the corner directly to the right is another one of those chaise lounges, and another cushioned chair nearby it. There’s yet another door on the side, probably a private washroom.

By the time Weiren’s done gawking at the high-class furnishings, they’ve realized that the queen has stepped out of her shoes and is placing them in the wardrobe. She pulls a feather-themed ornament out of her hair, leaving it on the vanity.

Queen Vicouryn has brought them to her  _ bedroom _ . Well, her temporary bedroom.

What is going to happen? Weiren closes their eyes to steel themself, and tries to sort their thoughts to stop getting their hopes up. Their imagination is too distracting.

The sound of a door closing clicks behind them, and they turn to see the queen standing beside it and looking at them expectantly, apparently having strided past them while they were briefly overwhelmed.

“It would be best if you made yourself comfortable,” she says, raising a brow and glancing down at Weiren's boots. They’d put on their finer pair since they were going to be working in the castle, so they’re less worn down than their others. 

“Right.” They take a moment to pull them off and place them neatly next to the door. That seems appropriate? Maybe? Considering how it all seems to be going, Weiren removes their outer jacket and vest, too, leaving them with just the loose, long-sleeve shirt. Already it feels less restrictive. Of course now the thought of disrobing further dances at the edge of their mind, but they successfully tuck that away to never be seen again. “So, umm…” They gesture towards the chaise lounge, “here?” That’s familiar, at least.

“Where would you prefer?” the queen asks, instead putting the decision on them for some reason, even when they don’t like to be one doing so. Weiren’s eyes practically bulge. The implication that Vicouryn is suggesting that they could use something other than the chaise lounge, of which there is only  _ one  _ other alternative—the  _ bed _ —is kind of terrifying, especially considering some of the thoughts that they’ve been enduring the last few hours, no thanks to a certain Cecilia Rundahl, soon-to-be queen of Kohson. These damn queens of Doluum are just tormenting them. Weiren is absolutely certain she is only saying these things just to see their reaction; they’re pretty sure that they can see the playful look in her eye, and they are trying so hard to hide any of their impure thoughts.

“Here is fine,” they manage to say, coughing and moving closer to the chaise lounge, because there’s no way they’re going to suggest the other option. Obviously that is far and beyond what the two of them are doing, right?

The queen smirks and simply follows. She’s really taken to seeing how much she can get Weiren to react, which is interesting to compare to her behavior in her first meeting. In the beginning, calm and stoic. Now, though still with control over her emotions, she lets them peek through just a little bit. Still calm, still in control, but expressing some forms of delight or amusement. Weiren supposes being constantly on the precipice of dying from embarrassment is a fair price to see her smile.

Perhaps though, since she’s letting them make the decisions…

Weiren sits down first at the head of the chaise lounge. 

“It’s my turn, now,” they say bravely, patting the area next to them. They can play at this game, too. If they can be the one to determine what’s going to happen, maybe their brain will chill out for once. “Why- why don’t you come here and lean on me instead?”

Oh, they can barely stop themself from cringing as they say it, still briefly stammering, but whatever. She’s been having too much fun at their expense; now they should make a move. 

It’s worth it, because they can see the hint of surprise in Vicouryn’s face, not expecting them to react like this, but as always, the emotion is pushed aside, schooled under a mask of control.

“How forward of you,” she comments as she strides closer, “though normally I prefer to be the one doing the holding.”

But how frequently does she even actually get to be held? Weiren doesn’t give in, instead making space and reclining so that perhaps the queen will just try it. 

“Are you sure?” they ask, trying to make an innocent expression, but it’s certainly mixed with an amount of fluster. They don’t possess the same amount of control. “What about just this once?” This time, though they do miss the feeling of the queen enveloping them, what if instead this time it was the other way around? What if this time they could look down at Vicouryn instead of up at her, and maybe make her feel safe in the way she does for them? Though, certainly, Vicouryn doesn’t  _ need  _ to feel safe, probably; Weiren still doesn’t know the extent of her power but it’s definitely beyond their own right now. 

Queen Vicouryn purses her lips, assessing Weiren’s request and their gently pleading expression (at least, that’s what they hope they’re expressing).

“For a short while, fine,” she says, finally, almost petulantly, as she makes her way to the chaise lounge. She sits down first, and then adjusts her position accordingly, slowly and reluctantly scooting forward so that she can lie back down and rest her head on Weiren’s chest. This is quite the situation. Definitely one Weiren didn’t think they would ever find the luxury of ever experiencing. They find that they’ve been holding their breath as she settles into the unfamiliar position, looking so out of place by showing this kind of vulnerability. She still has a mostly stone face, though there’s the slightest crease by one of her brows. “I would not do this for just anyone. I hope you realize what a privilege this is,” she says stiffly, and Weiren swallows, nodding.

“Uh, yes, of course. Can I… um… touch?” They ask, voice now much lower as they stare down unbelievingly at the queen’s upturned face. She looks up at them, still not completely comfortable with her position.

“Go ahead,” she says, “I will tell you otherwise if it comes up.” 

Weiren’s a little worried that the queen seems so against this despite agreeing, but part of them thinks it’s just because she’s almost always in the position of higher power. They just want to… um… take… care of her? To return the favor, of course. That’s all. 

Any of the more wild thoughts flee almost immediately at the sight of her mostly-peaceful expression. They have to be careful. This is delicate.

With a deep breath, Weiren reaches up, and with the backs of their fingers, runs their right hand down the side of Vicouryn’s face, from top to bottom, searching for any kind of reaction. At the first contact she barely tenses, but it’s quickly gone, and she allows her eyes to close for the moment. Of course, her skin is cold, but they wonder if it is pleasant for her to feel their warmth. A small untamed thought rises, telling them that it would be very easy to just lean down and press their lips to hers.

No, Weiren looks away from her face. Whatever they’re thinking of, whatever they desire, even if they don’t want to, doesn’t matter. What matters is making sure the queen is okay, and that they’re performing adequately. Focus on something else. Her hair. They try to mimic her past movements, returning their hand up to her hairline and faintly stroking down a lock off to the side. But unfortunately, with Vicouryn lying on her back, most of her black hair is underneath her body, unreachable.

“I, um, like you did for me,” Weiren begins, not sure how to phrase it, “you said it was one of the most pleasant things-”

Queen Vicouryn huffs under her breath, sitting up to change her position without saying a word, and Weiren just remains still and silent, lips pressed together in a line, fearing that she’s gotten tired of them already. But no, despite her briefly disgruntled reaction, she just turns her body so that the front of it lies against Weiren’s side, like how they’d been positioned the last time they were in Mevaden. 

Weiren tentatively reaches up and around to place their arm around her as she rests the side of her face against their collarbone, just a bit beneath their chin. They can’t really see her face like this, but they can feel it.

Certainly this must be a sight that no one is ever privy too, right? Weiren’s mild mischief fades away as they take in the sight of the queen of Mevaden tucked against them. She actually trusts them enough to allow them to see her like this? This feels like the most fragile of moments, even more than anything they’ve done previously. Vicouryn is trusting in them; they do not want to let her down.

Weiren lifts their other hand and brushes long, dark hair back behind the queen’s ear. Again, at first contact, there’s the slightest flinch, similar to their own reactions, as the queen is now miraculously the recipient of  _ their _ touch. The hair is soft and silky under their fingers, and Weiren realizes they’ve never really touched anyone else’s hair before. They want her to feel like they did when she did this for them. 

So they take to this task as best they can. With careful motions, Weiren gently combs their fingers through Queen Vicouryn’s hair, allowing their fingertips to brush against her scalp and neck down to her back. They think they feel her shiver once, but they’re not too sure, too focused on trying to do this as perfectly as they can. Never in a thousand years would Weiren have thought the queen would let this happen. Part of them wonders if the weeks spent apart affected her as much as them.

Several minutes pass like this in silence, Weiren’s hands carding through black hair with as much control as they can muster. It’s the least they can do in return, and they pray that the queen is at least finding it to be nice. It is so strange to know that the woman in their arms is a dangerous vampire of great power, one that could easily overcome someone of Weiren’s strength. So strange to know that this woman is a stoic queen with an impenetrable mask that conceals her emotions, and yet here she is, wrapped up in their arms, eyes closed, and so, so vulnerable. Weiren didn’t even think she  _ could  _ be vulnerable; she seems so powerful. Perhaps they’re so far a cry from a threat to her that she doesn’t feel like she needs to be on guard. 

“It- is it okay?” They ask after a while, unable to really tell how she feels about it. Though she had her reservations at first, she seems to have relaxed over some time. Hopefully they did well. At the sound of their voice, though, she tenses.

“Hmm,” she hums in a strange tone against their chest after a pause, “though unconventional for me, it has… been… pleasurable.” Her words slow down as she answers, as if not sure she wants to admit it. Then she moves, bracing her hands against the chaise lounge and pushing herself up to hover above Weiren, raising her head from below their chin. Her hair hangs down past her ears, resting on Weiren’s chest and nearly brushing their face. In just a few seconds, she’s left behind her vulnerability and taken control of the situation, as if reminding them of her power over them, though Weiren needs no reminder. “But, I much rather be the one in control.”

Weiren stares up at her, heart pounding, as they try to read the conflicted emotions in the queen’s eye. Though still mostly impassive, there’s something off. Like she’s feeling critical of herself, not them. Is she disappointed that she allowed someone like Weiren to hold her?

Vicouryn sits back, now straddling their legs, and sweeps her hair back over her shoulders with a smooth motion of her hand. She gazes down at them, now with her signature predatory look in her eyes. It’s dark but Weiren wonders if they’re seeing the slightest hint of amber in her irises. They wish they could look deeper and see; is she upset? Certainly they notice the suggestive position but it’s not important right now. How is Vicouryn feeling? They reach up, slowly and gently, concerned, until they can cup the sides of her face, thumbs settled gently on her cheeks, trying to show compassion, sympathy, understanding.

“I understand,” they say simply. If the queen has trouble with making herself vulnerable, they will not push it anymore. Her brows draw together just a bit, thinking on their response. A moment later, and she reaches up to take Weiren’s hands and pulls them off, setting them back down on the chaise lounge, her head barely shaking all the while. They frown a bit at the rejection, uncertain if they stepped over the line again, and leave their arms down, unmoving. She’d reacted in the same way, they remember, the first time they’d touched her face. Weiren isn’t sure what to think. It’s supposed to be a symbiotic relationship, what else is Weiren supposed to do for her if not try to touch back? She’d said that it was something she did not have frequent access to.

But just in the library twenty minutes ago, she’d phrased it a little differently. She’d said she’d do as she pleased, though with their consent, of course. Is just being receptive to her actions what she truly desires from them?

Vicouryn, this time, brings her hand to Weiren’s face, dragging her fingers up their chest and neck until they reach their cheek. Her knuckles ghost up their cheekbone and back down their jaw. Then, a bit unexpectedly, her thumb traces the curve of their lips, making them gasp.

Weiren blinks, their heartbeat somehow speeding up even more. This is a little different from before. The queen’s teasing attitude is gone, and now she’s completely serious, it seems. She looks at them less with fondness and more with some kind of hardness and conflict that they can’t understand. A bit of fear flicks up through their veins.

“Say, paladin,” Queen Vicouryn says, and Weiren doesn’t miss the way she addresses them, her thumb still resting on the corner of their lip, “tell me how you feel about this kind of intimacy.”

A breath escapes Weiren at that question. A hundred repressed thoughts flood their brain, breaking past their makeshift barriers at the implication of what the queen is saying.

“W-what?” they ask, cheeks reddening, which seems to be a common theme throughout this entire encounter. 

The queen doesn’t reply, only keeps looking down at them, thumb still drifting at the side of their mouth. With her other hand, she taps on her own lips, expression still not giving anything away. Then again, she traces across their lower lip.

O- _ oh _ . 

“I-I’m sure it must feel nice,” they say, sweat beading on their neck. Is this really something that’s going to happen? That can’t be right. Weiren’s had a brief experience of the sort once in the past, but it didn’t really go anywhere beyond a single kiss. Otherwise, certainly they’ve been thinking about it nonstop for the past fifteen minutes and earlier in the day.

“Do you desire it?” she asks next, and she slowly begins to lean forward, still with that dark gaze trained on them. Oh, gods, absolutely, but wait, they shouldn’t, should they?

“Um! I- uh,” Weiren tries, brain once again just overloading as they try to figure out what to say, “Maybe! But, um, isn’t- isn’t that something you would want to do with someone you’re in a relationship with? N-not someone like me, I-” Queen Vicouryn can’t be wanting to  _ kiss  _ Weiren, that’s clearly far beyond any sort of professional agreement. She should be doing that with someone she actually likes, right? Certainly there’s a future where Queen Vicouryn finds someone that she genuinely likes that doesn’t care if she’s a vampire, and who likes her back. That’s who she should be sharing in this type of experience with, not some touch-starved adventurer she’s taken pity on.

“We have our agreement; a relationship like that is unnecessary for this,” she answers, voice dark. Weiren’s protests die in their throat. I-if she doesn’t  _ mind,  _ then… the selfish parts of Weiren are nodding vigorously,  _ yes,  _ take the opportunity, ignore consequences and run wild.

Certainly Weiren can’t deny the appeal of such an action. Oh, gods. They’re torn between desire and fear. She’s acting a little weird, but is she actually? It’s just like the time she first called them for a private audience, the night after they slayed Varis, controlling and imposing. It’s just another facet of her, but Weiren keeps thinking there’s a chance she might be experiencing some sort of emotional turmoil, but they can never be sure. They don’t know. There’s too much happening in their own mind for them to be able to properly read her.

“S-sure,” they finally say, frozen in place as the queen gets even closer, “i-if you’re okay with it.”  _ Please _ .

Weiren’s mind flows with anxiety. Aren’t you supposed to like, reach out and hold the person you’re kissing when you do it? But she doesn’t want them to touch her anymore? Or does she? Should they just lie here, unmoving? What are they supposed to do in order to not disappoint the queen? 

Queen Vicouryn places her other hand on their shoulder, bracing herself up on it as she comes still closer. Weiren’s head tilts up instinctively, trying to match her angle. The hand on their face moves back to the side, now firmly holding their jaw. There’s a pressure as she guides their head, tilting it just a bit to the side while hers moves in the opposite direction. Hmm, that makes sense, something in Weiren’s delirious mind thinks, so that noses don’t get in the way, right? The anticipation builds, growing larger and larger until Weiren feels like their heart might burst. This impossibility is somehow now a possibility- no, a certainty, it’s coming, they can’t stop it, and they want it, but they shouldn’t?

At a certain point they can no longer handle keeping their eyes open, the intensity of the queen’s gaze overwhelming and frankly a little terrifying in the moment. Yet again she’s breaking down barriers they’ve built around themself like they’re nothing, apparently quite enjoying Weiren’s vulnerability despite being unable to handle her own, if Weiren’s possible glimpses into her expression are correct. 

Well… at least Weiren doesn’t mind exposing these sides of them to her. There’s no one else who’ll ever see it, anyway. Somewhere they think they wouldn’t mind showing her everything.

The hand on their face lifts their chin, and then there’s a soft, cold pressure on their lips. Oh, here it is. The kiss. The second one in their life, though this time initiated by the other person, and she  _ wants  _ to kiss them, they think, otherwise why would she? But it makes no sense, why would she want to kiss them? Why them?

The thoughts keep running but they try to just focus on the feeling.

A chilling aura reaches them as Vicouryn remains at her destination, cold waves emanating off of her. They want to reach out to her, but they’re too scared of more rejection. All of their thoughts are jumbled together, but there’s one single constant voice telling them that beyond it all, they’re kissing the queen of Mevaden. 

It’s strange. Vicouryn’s motions are gentle but they’re without feeling. She’s got them under her control, but it’s not with the care and tenderness of before. She’s doing this for other reasons they can’t comprehend, but even so they still want it. What are they supposed to be feeling? What is she feeling?

Neither of them move for the few seconds that the chaste kiss lasts, and then Vicouryn withdraws, her chilled lips leaving Weiren’s. They open their eyes, and the vampire is looking to the side; the conflicted expression in her eyes is only more intense. It’s over. What did they do wrong? Is she feeling alright? Is she upset?

“Hey,” they say quietly, “are you okay?”

The queen turns to them, some amount of incredulity in her face.

“You should be more worried about yourself,” she returns, leaning back. She reaches up to rub the bridge of her nose, frustrated. “You do not deserve this treatment.”

“I’m alright,” Weiren says back, “but it looks like there might be something on your mind?” If she’s hurting in any way… maybe Weiren can help. She stares at them, almost taken aback by their reaction, and they hurry to rectify their words. “You don’t have to talk about it! If you don’t want to, that is. I just… thought it might help.”

The strange emotion in her eyes gives way to fatigue, and she sighs tiredly. Vicouryn moves, getting up from her position to readjust herself and sit farther down on the chaise lounge, hands in her lap as she thinks. Weiren sits up, too, uncertain of what to expect, but it sounds like perhaps the queen will explain her behavior. Knowing she’s calming down too is reassuring; their mind is settling, focusing on reality, and on her and what she’s saying.

“I did not mean to scare you,” she says, “I regret that.”

Weiren wants to protest against this, but they think better of it. There was an amount of fear, and she would probably be able to tell if they said otherwise. But they know for sure that there was an amount of desire that must have been rivaling if not completely overshadowing the fear.

“I… I thought I’d done something to make you upset,” they confess instead, and she looks up at them with a slight frown.

“No.” There’s a firmness to her tone that makes Weiren blink. “You have done nothing wrong.” There’s a pause as she falls silent. Weiren waits, giving her time to say what she needs. She sighs again, this time heavier, and presses fingers to her temples. Finally, she turns back to them, and her eyes soften.

“Weiren,” she addresses them by name, this time, “thank you for your patience. While I appreciate your desire to… reciprocate what I have done, it appears that it is not a good idea for the future.” Her words are slow and careful, and Weiren can tell she’s phrasing it very mindfully. 

“I understand,” Weiren says, “it can be difficult to put that much trust in someone.” The queen sends them a surprised look; perhaps their comment was actually accurate. Trusting in someone that much means showing them more of yourself, and it’s dangerous for a person as important as the queen to do that.

“I do not believe you have any ill will towards me, Weiren,” she returns, “I merely… dislike being in such a vulnerable position. It is not easy for me to relinquish control over any situation.”

“That’s okay,” Weiren assures, “But I’m glad that we at least tried it out, you know?” It was nice to have the queen in their arms, even if it was a short time. 

Queen Vicouryn sends them a withering look.

“I took advantage of you,” she states, and there’s contempt in her voice, “and took things too far. You should be upset; I would not be surprised if you wanted to end this now.”

“No,” Weiren says quickly, “no. I don’t- I don’t want this to stop. Please, don’t keep asking.” It only makes them wonder if the queen is just suggesting it because  _ she  _ wants to stop, and they never want to stop, “unless you don’t want to keep going. Just… tell me whenever that happens.”

The queen looks at them with a concerned but thoughtful expression. They consider stopping their words there, but decide against it. They want to stay with her so bad they have to fight for it.

“Look,” they say, quietly, “It’s been a month since I was in Mevaden. It was a long time to go without this. I really… I really missed this. I-” Weiren stops for a second, thinking over the events. Is it too much to share everything that happened? To ensure that the arrangement doesn’t end… perhaps they should. Weiren looks up to match Vicouryn’s gaze, biting their lip. What if they sound too desperate? What if they sound like they want more than just their agreement, and she wants to cut it off?

Queen Vicouryn holds their gaze, waiting for them to continue. It’s reassuring. She has never really judged them before.

“When I… when we were captured by Brauven…” they trail off, recalling the memory. Their hands curl into fists on their knees, “I thought it was over. I thought I’d never make it back to Doluum. I thought-” 

_ I thought I’d never see you again _ .

Weiren doesn’t say it aloud. That might be too much. It might imply something more than the queen wants to hear. Beyond just being imprisoned on a Brauven airship, they recall the dreams induced by the cursed forest spirit necklace: Queen Vicouryn dead on the ground, arrows sticking out of her body, and Weiren unable to do anything to help her. 

And just a week ago, too, Weiren nearly died to the Blood Knight. They’d definitely thought of Vicouryn as they bled out on the ground. How do they convey how much she matters to them without pushing the boundary? They can’t express anything more; it’d go against their agreement, and it would never lead to more. If anything, it would just break whatever bond they have with her now.

Oh, no. Weiren can feel the stinging of incoming tears in their eyes.  _ No, no, no. Please, not now. _

Stupid emotions and vulnerability.

Weiren presses a hand to their face, concealing their eyes. How many times are they going to have to cry in front of Vicouryn? This makes number two. 

An arm wraps around their shoulder and a hand settles on their head. Not a second later, and they’re pulled to lean against Queen Vicouryn. Relief courses through their body at this; she at least cares somewhat. Weiren lets themself be held as they try to work through their emotions. Their shoulders are shaking and the tears aren’t stopping, not yet. 

“Listen, Weiren,” she says, her voice thrumming through her chest, “you are very kind and noble, and you deserve to be treated with respect and care. I am what I am, and I did wrong by you. I have only suggested what I did because I felt you could find someone more worthy than I. I do not wish to take advantage of you again.”

Vicouryn thinks of them as kind and noble? But she thinks of herself in such a way? They shake their head against her. Maybe she has a stoic demeanor, but she is so considerate to them in a way they’ve never really experienced before. They barely even think what she did actually qualified as taking advantage of them. Sure, she was acting a little forceful, but Weiren still wanted whatever she was giving, and they still do. They welcomed it with open arms and consented verbally.

“I don’t want to find someone else,” the paladin whispers, burying their face in her shoulder. They can’t possibly imagine whatever expression she might have.

There’s an incredibly long pause as she takes that in.

“Alright,” she finally says, softly, and they let out an exhale. Thank the gods.

A minute or so later, Weiren feels they’ve fully calmed down.

“Sorry,” they mumble, adequately worn down and a little mortified. May as well add the next thing while they’re here, too. “And, uh, I, um, I didn’t really mind what you did.” They find themself missing the comforting pressure against their lips. Maybe mentioning this little tidbit of information will lead to similar experiences in the future.

There’s a movement as Queen Vicouryn laughs under her breath. It’s good to hear.

“Of course you didn’t,” she says, shaking her head. Weiren can feel her motions from within her arms. “That’s a dangerous thing to say, especially when you are already so receptive to everything.” 

Weiren blushes, but thankfully she can’t see. Receptive indeed, but not just passive. There’s a thousand wants swirling inside, but they have to push them aside.

“For now, though, lie with me.” There’s another pull as Vicouryn leans back to recline on her side, and Weiren tries to shift with her. Thank the gods she still wants to do this with them. Even if Weiren never shares another kiss with her again they would be fine as long as they could still have this. They’re fine just being in her presence and her embrace. They end up facing each other, though offset, with Weiren’s head familiarly placed a bit below Vicouryn’s, their forehead gently brushing against her collarbone. The paladin’s hands rest gently on the cushion, between their bodies, though Vicouryn has dedicated one of her own to trailing down the length of Weiren’s hair. Farther down, their legs touch briefly at their bent knees, but nothing more. 

“Thank you,” Weiren says softly, relaxing into this position. It feels so nice and comfortable. Safe and protected.

“Of course,” Vicouryn answers, her voice low and gentle. She tucks a lock of hair back behind their ear. “Though I have heard the gist from the audience with your Concord this morning, I am interested to know more of your journey. It sounds as if you went through much.”

Gods, Weiren thinks, they did. 

“Yes, I can tell you more,” they agree. There’s so much to recount, though. Too much happened in Kandor. But they have to start somewhere. “We headed north to Kandor after leaving Mevaden. I was looking for more information about the ley lines, and we’d learned that there were Ashanan refugees trapped in Talgrad including Kainen’s family, and another scion,” Weiren begins. That’s how their whole journey in Kandor started, after all. Vicouryn remains silent, listening, and Weiren continues for a long time.

***

Late into the night, Vicouryn has much to contemplate. There’s an elf paladin curled up against her, breathing softly and with their eyes closed, completely defenseless against her, and yet they do not mind. It is not the first time, either, that they’ve let themself be so incredibly vulnerable around her.

She wonders why.

How can they be fine with it? How do they have so much trust in her, to drop their guard completely and leave themself at her mercy? To let their emotions free and cry before her?

Vulnerability is weakness. For hundreds of years, Vicouryn has forced it away to maintain her status. Even her natural weakness, requiring blood as a vampire, has been shaped and tamed to be as unobtrusive as possible. She’s lived her whole life controlling everything she can: her emotions, her actions, her relationships, her hunger, all to protect herself and her power. Keeping control is the foundation of everything she ever does; to relinquish it is unthinkable. Vicouryn is a queen with many enemies, and she has a kingdom with a dark and dangerous history. Giving up control would mean certain death. Her caution is how she has come so far already, and her caution is how she will uphold her family’s legacy.

Which is why she was barely able to handle letting it go earlier that night. She won’t deny that the sensation of Weiren playing with her hair had been pleasant, so much so that she dropped her guard entirely for a few minutes, when she’d only been planning on lowering it a small amount.

To leave herself that vulnerable is unacceptable. In the moment, when Weiren spoke up after some time, and Vicouryn realized what she’d done, she was shocked. Her automatic reaction was to seize control back in whatever way she could, reminding herself that it is not Weiren who controls her, but she who controls them, but even that is shaky. Perhaps deep down she has her dark desires, but up front she doesn’t want to control them that way, they are too good of a person and an individual in their own right, and she doesn’t  _ want  _ to scare them away. Though she feels like perhaps she should if only to give them another opportunity to escape her before they really go too far. Certainly she does like the idea of them being  _ hers  _ and being available to her, but there’s some kind of guilt that comes with that thought. Normally she doesn’t have an issue with doing what’s necessary to accomplish her goals… but Weiren is an entirely different story. 

Her relationship with the paladin is simply to exchange touch, and blood, too, apparently, which is a whole other thing that she still needs to think about. 

Sure, Weiren can leave themself defenseless around her, but Vicouryn can do no such thing. To allow that means acknowledging they’ve come closer than she wants, that they can affect her in a dangerous way. She simply cannot accept that. 

Her thoughts are a mess, flowing this way and that. Certainly she finds it quite entertaining to see them react to her requests, and she does enjoy their warmth as well as their blood. They are considerate, almost overly so, and very accomodating to what she asks. Their very existence is like some sort of strange blessing, receptive to what she wants and even desiring to give her their blood. Knowing that she is a vampire does not dissuade them. Witnessing her intimidation and ruthlessness does not stop them. Even after being victim to her more forceful actions, they do not falter. For some reason, they keep coming back to her. 

For some reason, they accept all of her. Are they really so desperate for some companionship that they will take someone like her?

This arrangement of touch has gotten far deeper than either of them were intending.

She should not have kissed them, and certainly not in whatever state of mind she was in. She wants to handle Weiren with care, not intimidate them into subservience, though it’s hard when they are already as passive as they are. Knowing how easily they take to her requests makes her want to see how far she can push them. Is there a line they won’t cross?

Vicouryn glances down at the paladin’s form, and has a terrible thought. How much of what she’s done is a first for them? Was that their first kiss? Their first time sleeping beside another person? Their first time they’ve had their hair touched? How many first experiences has she taken from them?

Certainly there’s a significant part of her that is quite pleased at the possibility that she’s the only source for physical intimacy for this touch-starved elf. Of course they keep coming back to her; she’s the only one they  _ can  _ go to. Perhaps she’s already controlling them by simply having this arrangement, she is the only one who can give them what they want, currently at least. So desperate for the touch of another that they are satisfied with an undead monster…

There’s another part of her though, that recognizes their power and what they’ve done for her. The things they’ve offered without her asking. The sheer amount of acceptance and kindness they’ve shown to her. Should she really try to hold them even closer and take greater control, for fear of losing them? Or should she assume that they are already tied to her by their own desperation and feelings? And could she even overcome the divine power that grants them some protection from vampiric charm? Though, she could further her influence on them by words and actions alone…

However, that might not even be necessary, honestly. Vicouryn thinks she did catch sight of some flashes of desire in their expression, but she does not want to make any assumptions. She’s grown used to people seeing her with fear and respect, not with attraction. For a good time she was occupied with her own emotions, and her perceptions could easily be influenced by her own desires, but there were many moments where Weiren’s fluster could simply have been them dealing with their wants. 

Whatever happens beyond this point will have to be carefully considered. Since it sounds like Weiren did enjoy her regretful kiss despite the circumstances, perhaps they may revisit such a thing in the future, though this time with no regrets. Vicouryn, especially after what happened tonight, finds she wants to see what else they might want to pursue. As far as she knows, Weiren has never had the chance to explore anything. If she can, why doesn’t she just take the opportunity to show them the possibilities? It all falls under their original arrangement, and really, when else is she ever going to find someone who seeks her touch so desperately?

A small voice says that it isn’t smart to get so close to someone, but how much will it matter, really? Weiren won’t be in Gedal for that long, shouldn’t the two of them take the chance to do what they can before they separate again? Besides, she reassures herself, Weiren is the one being so heavily affected by her, not the other way around. She is simply indulging one who wants to be close to her, why shouldn’t she just take the free benefits while she can?

Her thoughts keep moving, now shifting to ruminate on what Weiren’s told her just a bit ago. Their journey in Kandor was incredibly eventful. Vicouryn knows the basics of Kandor, but she’s never been, as her main focus is on Mevaden. The paladin traveled through the entirety of Kandor, passing through Keld but not Iyesgarth, making their way north to Talgrad, with the help of a guide. Corrupted beasts, less-than-helpful slayers, tribes of beastfolk, scholars of nature, and above all, getting captured by Brauven. 

Somehow, Vicouryn was incredibly close to most likely never seeing Weiren again.

She does not like this thought, and brushes past it. 

The events on that airship sounded intense. Vicouryn didn’t pry, but there were certain parts where she was certain Weiren wasn’t saying everything. Some things it seemed they were hiding out of respect to the secrecy of those they met, and some things they simply did not want to think too much about. They were vague on the nightmares they endured thanks to a cursed necklace she frankly thought was a stupid but ballsy move on their part to wear, and they were uncomfortable discussing the final fight: the encounter with the Blood Knight.

She recalls their reactions back in the formal audience when they talked of that fearsome soldier, nervous and perturbed. She suspects they suffered much injury and blood to him; a fact she tucks away for the future, just in the off chance that she ever encounters the knight herself.

Weiren has gone through much. How can she even think of adding to it with more manipulation? Well, wouldn’t it be better for them to stick more closely by her? She’d make certain that the only harm that would come to them would be her taking their blood whenever they wanted, since it seems they enjoy it so much.

Hah, as if she could even make this a reality. The paladin is of an independent group with its own goals, and if they choose, they’ll be an official knight of Doluum as well, and they’ll certainly be sent out on other equally dangerous missions. There is no sense in thinking of ways to tie them down, figuratively, of course. Though… she laughs, shaking her head, that  _ is  _ quite a thought.

Whatever path to take is the correct one, she finds she simply wants to keep stroking their hair, and perhaps hold them a little tighter.


	15. The Order of Integrity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiren pledges their loyalty to Doluum and gets a bit closer to Queen Vicouryn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zoo wee mama

Weiren isn’t exactly sure how long they and Vicouryn lay there together, but it was definitely a good, long while. It was so peaceful that they fell briefly into a more meditative trance, and perhaps she did, too. Their eyes open to find it still dark, so it is still before sunrise, which is good. There’s an arm draped across their waist, no longer tracing paths down their hair, and they’re still facing her. They shift to look up at her.

“V-Vicouryn?” They whisper softly, blinking a couple times to clear their eyes. 

“Hmm?” Her voice drifts down, and they feel her shift, too. She sounds relaxed. Peaceful. Weiren thinks she probably doesn’t get to feel that way too often, so they’re glad she was able to with them at least.

“I, uh, I know we talked about it a little bit before, but… I just want to make sure,” they continue, “Do you want me to stop, uh, initiating touch? It seemed like you didn’t really… enjoy it at times.” In their current position they’re filled with the urge to reach out their arms and embrace the queen, but they want to be careful.

Vicouryn props herself up on an elbow, gazing down at them with a considering look. They roll just a bit to be more on their back, allowing them to look up at her with more ease. There’s something about seeing her face like this. In the dark of the night and focused on them, they find they quite like it.

“I do not wish for you to stop,” she says, “Though I suppose there are some situations in which I would prefer otherwise. I will not keep you guessing, however. In the future, if such a situation presents itself, then I will tell you.” Oh, phew. That’s a relief. “I find that I dislike being completely at the mercy of anyone, so as long as I have a greater amount of control in any one moment, it should be fine.”

That makes sense, Weiren thinks, knowing what they know about her. 

“Okay,” they nod up at her, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You as well, though. Should anything go beyond your comfort, you must speak up about it,” she says, staring down at them with a focus that sends flickers of excitement down their body. Her face is so close.

“Alright,” Weiren agrees, “I will.”

“I do not mean this lightly, Weiren. I do not want you to feel obligated to do anything you do not wish to. As I’ve said before, this is as much for your benefit as it is mine.” The hand on their waist draws up their torso, grazing their chest as she rests it on the side of their face. Their eyes almost instinctively close in satisfaction; it feels so nice.

“I understand. But, um… how far are we even going to go?” They ask, reaching up to touch her hand, too. “I don’t want to overstep or anything.”

There’s a pause as they look at each other, eyes in contact.

“However far you wish, I suppose,” the queen answers.

Weiren’s heart thumps, buried thoughts rising back up to taunt them. Really?

Their own hand moves to gently touch the side of her face.

“As far as what’s already happened?” They ask breathily, feeling their pulse begin to quicken. Of course the kiss has been on their mind for quite some time; it’s something they really hope to try again. Weiren tries to look pointedly at her lips before resuming their shared gaze. They find their cheeks are heating up quite a lot but having just been lying so close to her for so long has given them some amount of courage.

Vicouryn’s head tilts, just a bit, as she takes that in.

“That, and farther, if you so desire. I’m certain we will be discussing it as we go along. Do not worry about the specifics now,” she says, affirming their hopes. Weiren feels a breath escape them in relief.

“Then…” they whisper, “could… could you do it again?” Oh gods. There it is. They went and said it. But honestly they’re both already in a perfect position for such a thing, hands cupping each others’ faces and only a small space between them. It would be quite easy to close that space and share another kiss. 

Their heart keeps pounding as Vicouryn continues to watch them, her face as indifferent as always but yet still so calculating. The moments pass, and then suddenly she’s coming closer, body twisting just a bit to allow her head to descend. Weiren’s body locks up, frozen except for trying to keep their fingers against her face. Her head turns, nearly perpendicular to theirs as she approaches, and then she slows, leaving just a few inches. Weiren’s eyes widen at this proximity; last time they’d closed their eyes but this is another level of intimacy entirely. She’s so close. It is clear she is willing to give them another experience.

In this moment she waits for just a bit, giving Weiren time to react if necessary. They nod, barely and slowly, to show that they’re ready, almost lost in her gaze as if she was drawing them in with her vampiric aura, though they know she isn’t using it.

Another second, and then they’re both moving to close the gap, Weiren less so but they still do, both gently pulling the other towards them with a soft hold on each other's cheek, until their lips come into contact.

Just like before, Vicouryn is cold against them, but the pressure is firm, and they cling to it desperately. Lifting their head strains their neck a bit but the queen's grasp helps support them. At first, it’s as chaste as the last one, neither of them moving much and letting each other become familiar with the bare sensation.

Then they part, just for a second, to see how the other is faring. Weiren wants more, and they’re pretty sure they can see a similar glint in the queen’s dark eyes. To both of them, that short touch is just not enough.

Again, their lips meet, and then Vicouryn moves, and it deepens. She adjusts her head and then she’s going further. Weiren can feel her lips part for just a second as she focuses first on their lower lip, and then she moves again, changing targets to their upper. They don’t have a crazy amount of experience but they’ve at least read their fair share of novels and can learn from observation, so even though for a second they’re stunned by her assertion, they’re emboldened to try and return the favor.

The intimacy is practically overwhelming, the sensations new and exciting. Weiren didn’t think this would ever be an experience they’d get to have and by Celaste Moren they are going to savor it. Even if they’re amateurish or whatever they want to learn quickly and know that it is as good for the queen as it is for them.

They take and then mimic the motions of Vicouryn’s lips, learning that a kiss like this is really just a series of smaller ones peppered across the mouth, both parties giving and taking. Nothing too crazy, not yet, nothing beyond just lips, but it is still incredibly intoxicating and it does not stop. Decades of holding themself back and now their wants are spilling forth, trying to burn this experience into their memory lest they somehow never have the chance of it again.

Weiren feels lightheaded as they try to ignore the need to breathe, wanting instead to just keep this going as long as they can. Both their and her grip on each other tightens ever-so-slightly as they try to feel more of each other, pressing even more against one another. There’s a few moments when they think they feel the sharp point of a fang, but the queen is careful and does not cut them, though they think they wouldn’t mind if she did.

Their air is running low, too low, and they won’t be able to keep this up for much longer, but gods it feels so good. Maybe at one point they pull back just to squeeze in a quick breath but they want to get back to it as soon as possible, so much that it’s almost as if they never broke away in the first place, hanging onto this kiss like their life is depending on it.

After what is both too long and too short, Vicouryn withdraws, setting Weiren’s head back down on the cushion, and their neck is relieved to stop straining against gravity. They’re breathing hard, chest rising and falling quickly as they try to catch up on lost air. Completely breathless, they stare wide-eyed up at Vicouryn, who seems to be equally surprised by what’s just occurred. It’s interesting to see that expression beyond just her usual stoic face.

_ That was me _ , Weiren thinks,  _ I did that _ .

Several more moments pass, both recovering from what must have been a far more intense kiss than either of them were expecting. Though caught up on regulating their breathing, the absence of the queen’s lips on theirs is incredibly prominent.

“Th-thank you,” Weiren breathes, and the queen shakes her head.

“I did not expect you to learn so quickly,” she says, a hint of incredulity in her voice, and for a second it seems like she’s averting  _ her  _ eyes. Weiren swallows; did- did they somehow fluster her? When was the last time Vicouryn was able to kiss someone like that? 

But they can’t be sure, for her gaze returns and whatever emotions she’s experiencing are pushed away under her mask. Oh, what if they were  _ too  _ eager? Oh no.

“I just… wanted you to enjoy it too,” they say quietly, now feeling the urge to look away since the kiss has ended, courage giving way to anxiety.

Vicouryn’s hand on their face moves up to brush some hair away.

“Certainly,” she returns, “you did well; I was merely… surprised.”

The praise sends Weiren soaring to new heights. Thank the gods. Their arms reach for her, but wait, no, they need to check first.

“Can, uh, can I hug you?” They ask nervously. The queen blinks, seemingly taken aback for a second, but she nods and extends her own arms as well to wrap around them. There’s a bit of shuffling that must be done, though. Weiren reaches around her waist to settle their hands on her back, their head coming to rest on her shoulder, and they can feel Vicouryn’s arms encircling theirs.

They can feel their own heartbeat, still slowing down from the adrenaline of the kiss, and wonders if she can feel it too. After all, with this embrace their bodies are now flush together, warm against cold, day against night, life against death. Who knew that the touch of undeath could be this comforting?

***

“Oh, um, before we go, are friends permitted to observe the ceremony?” Weiren asks as the attendant turns to guide them, Kainen and Dormin away. They don’t want Lynne to have to sit outside.

“Lynne is permitted to observe from the back of the chamber with the other nobility and guests,” the man answers, and Weiren glances back to Lynne, who stands a bit away from the group, a little awkward now that they’ve been split up in this way.

“Lynne, they say you’re allowed to watch!” They call down to her with a smile. She nods, and then follows them back into the throne room. The attendant leads her away, to the back where other observers are currently gathered. Weiren catches sight of a couple familiar faces, though not quite familiar enough to know their names. Somehow they’ve been in the castle frequently enough to now recognize a few of importance. They watch Lynne as she finds a good place to stand, and sends her another nod.

Turning their attention back to the throne, they can see three unfamiliar figures all kneeling before the three seated High Kings, supposedly the chosen knights from their respective cities. The leftmost one, kneeling before King Rundahl is clad in armored robes. A bit more of a glance and Weiren recognizes that it’s a dragonborn, blue scales running down his face and neck. The next one is a red tiefling in a fairly elaborate set of flexible leather and metal armor with a longsword and shortsword strapped on either side of his waist, presumably King Yahsan’s chosen knight. Lastly, kneeling before Queen Vicouryn and the one Weiren is most intrigued to see is a fairly concealed figure. They’re wearing a large cloak that conceals much with various daggers and quivers slung about their shoulders and waist. They seem quite mysterious in a way that Weiren finds to be suitable for a champion selected by Vicouryn.

King Yahsan gestures to them, and the three members of the Crystal Concord step up and take positions in another kneeling row behind these three, a few feet of space separating their groups. Kainen behind the dragonborn, Dormin behind the tiefling, and Weiren somehow behind Vicouryn’s subject. The stone is hard on their knee, and they wonder how they ever even got to this point in the first place. First a paladin, now a knight. It’s… incredible.

“The six of you are here to be sworn into a new knightly order, one created at a critical turning point in the history of Doluum,” Yahsan says, stepping forward to address them, “With a new war, the likes of which we’ve never seen in our northern borders. Our military might has been stretched to their very limits, and finally the three High Kings have been forced to unite to finally utilize our resources as one. This means that the people of Doluum are scared. Change has come, and we are not able to watch over every nook and cranny of our vast domains, and even now the war rages on, unpredictable and dangerous against a foe who cannot be underestimated.”

As expected, his words carry far and with confidence, even despite sitting. Yahsan truly acts like a king. It’s interesting to see how he describes the conflict with the Brauven Empire, and he truly phrases it in such a way to really build up the next part. Quite a public speaker, which makes sense for a ruler.

“It is now that we need the Order of Integrity,” he carries on, “Knights from every realm of Doluum who have served different people and are willing to serve more, and who will not stand under the banner of any one king, but under the banner of Doluum itself. We wish to dub this Knightly order the Order of Integrity with the name Waywatchers, ones who will make sure that the roads and the people and the enemies of Doluium know that there will always be guardians present. This will not be a long ceremony, but it will be an important one for all of you. We will ask you to swear these things we will each bring to you. If you agree you need only say you swear it.”

Wow. The Order of Integrity. Though Weiren doesn’t know what to expect, they find this name to be a comforting one. Integrity is a nice trait that they like to think they try to embody. And Waywatcher sounds like a very interesting title. Waywatcher Weiren… it does sound pretty nice. 

King Yahsan turns to look at King Rundahl, who nods and then leans forward in his chair.

“Do you swear to protect Doluum as a whole, bind her people and to never serve the interest of just one sovereign?” He says. Almost immediately the three champions in front of them respond.

“I swear,” they say solemnly, almost in perfect unison. Oh, shit, Weiren’s a little late but they manage to squeeze it in. So this is the timing they need to hit. They feel their blood go a little hot, now really feeling the attention of the entire room on them. Oh, gods.  _ Just keep staring at the floor. _ King Yahsan then sits forward again.

“Do you swear to take the initiative and protect the people spread far and wide throughout Doluum even when there are no orders, to ensure that no one will be left unattended and uncared for?” 

“I swear,” all six people echo, Weiren having hit the timing just right this time. Phew, okay, just one more? If the pattern continues, that is. Vicouryn must be next.

“And do you swear to oversee the laws of our land, uphold the interests of Doluum, and strike down her enemies?” Her voice is serious and dark, commanding attention in a very different way than King Yahsan but exuding power all the same.

“I swear,” they all repeat again.

“Then stand,” King Yahsan commands, and both the high kings and all of the knights-to-be rise, Weiren still unfortunately a little slow, but not too much to be that noticeable. “Each of you will be given a sigil that will mark you as a Knight of Integrity, as a Waywatcher. This will carry with it the weight and the burden of knighthood but will also let everyone in Doluum know that you carry the prestige of your position. We hope to open orders, bases, and outposts for your kind as the order grows. The resources given to you will be open to all those who carry the sigil. Treat it well, it is important.”

Certainly it makes sense for knights to be given something to represent their order. Weiren will have to get another cord or just add it to their current necklace that holds both their paladin amulet and their ring of the Crystal Concord.  _ Guess I’m a lot more than I used to be... _

The three High Kings step forward, and one by one, bequeath a small metal symbol to those before them. King Rundahl is first again, handing it to the dragonborn who holds it to his chest, lowering his head in respect. King Yahsan is next, giving a symbol to the red tiefling, who manages some kind of trick across his hands with it before looking up with his chin raised in a confident demeanor. Next is Queen Vicouryn, who merely passes it to the hooded figure. They receive it simply, taking it and looking up at the queen with a small nod and nothing more. Weiren’s curious about who that figure might be, but they know there will be time right after the ceremony to get to know them.

Then that row of three departs, filing out to the side and leaving the path between the kings and the Concord free. A quick glance behind shows that they moved into another row of three behind them, maintaining a well-organized set of rows.

_ Oh _ , Weiren thinks as they return their attention to the front, seeing Vicouryn standing before them,  _ glad I stood where I did. _

Of course, in public, there is nothing they can do, and they remain as stoic as they can while the next round of symbols are passed out, but memories of their encounter in her bedroom in the early hours of the morning comes to mind, and they find it hard to completely conceal their fond smile. The phantom sensation of her lips on theirs is strong, and they need to look past her instead of directly at her eyes to avoid thinking about it too hard.

Oh gods. Standing here in this knighting ceremony really hammers home the fact that they quite literally kissed a  _ queen _ . A  _ queen! _ And now they’re technically her  _ knight _ ! 

What have they even done?

King Rundahl gives Kainen his symbol, the two exchanging friendly smiles. King Yahsan hands over Dormin’s with a satisfied smirk, looking the paladin up and down before nodding in approval. Then it’s Vicouryn’s turn.

She glides closer, steps controlled and elegant. Weiren swallows as she approaches, and holds out their hands in as respectful of a gesture they can handle, casting their eyes down. Vicouryn presses the symbol into their open palms, fingers lingering deliberately against theirs for just a half-second too long, prompting them to look back up to meet her impassive gaze and just the smallest hint of a smirk. With that, she withdraws, hands folding over one another as she resumes a regal, queenly pose. 

They let out a breath they hadn’t realized they were holding as the three High Kings return to their chairs back at the head of the throne room. Weiren glances down at the weight now in their hands, and sees a small metallic symbol. It’s a rounded trinity shape with little carvings engraved across the surface, small stars at each point of the triangle, but any hard edges have been softened for ease of carrying.

Weiren closes their hands with the symbol inside, lightly grasping it, and looks back to hear the rest of the ceremony.

“You are the first sworn members of the Waywatchers. I imagine we're going to be calling on your services many times, and hopefully the name Waywatcher will carry real weight amongst our people soon,” Yahsan says, seated once again in his throne, “With that, the ceremony is complete. I think it would be best if our knights were given a chance to interact and meet with each other before orders and requests are discussed. Everyone here is dismissed, and knights if you wish, we will prepare a small side room for you all to convene and share introductions.” Yahsan gestures to the crowd, which begins to disperse with the help of the many attendants in the room. Weiren pockets their symbol of integrity, and glances around nervously at the other knights, and at Lynne. They wonder if she will be allowed to meet the other nights in this side room, but possibly not. A pair of guards come to beckon the six knights to the side, leading them to another room. Weiren asks tentatively about allowing Lynne to come, but King Yahsan shakes his head, citing that there must be fairness.

The paladin sends an apologetic glance in Lynne’s direction, who nods to acknowledge them, and turns to wait out in the halls.

They’re led inside a large conference room, where a long table sits in the center. The three High Kings take their seats at the head of the table, and the six knights sit on either side, split by those of the Crystal Concord and those native to Doluum. Weiren lets out a low breath at the gaze of the three other knights on them and their friends; gods, they’re so intimidated.

***

Some hours later, the library is the meeting place again. It’s already in the castle, Weiren needs to work there anyway, and it is very easy for Vicouryn to simply show up as if on her own business. That’s what they decided on last night, at least.

Writing out all the visions multiple times has taken longer than Weiren thought, but they’re just about finished tonight. They’re planning on turning them in tomorrow morning, but they’ve got quite an uneasy feeling. Vicouryn will not be happy about what they reveal in their writing; thus, they are hoping to talk to her about it tonight, in person. Although Weiren is pretty sure that whatever link they have with Arkova is mostly a one-way street, there is the chance that she will find out how to turn it onto them, and somehow gain a look into  _ their  _ ongoings. 

And, well, if Weiren is involved with Vicouryn at such a time…

They don’t even want to entertain that train of thought. They press their fingers to their temples, still not quite sure what will be the best way to bring it up. Not to mention they’re a little fearful that after learning about this weird connection to the enemy empress, Vicouryn will be cutting them off for the good of Doluum. 

Before, back before they’d gotten involved with all this royalty, Weiren doubted that anyone would even believe their party if they talked of mystical visions of Empress Arkova. Now that they've accomplished all they have, though, and have even become a real knight of the Doluum Alliance, it must be the time to really spill all of the beans. The High Kings all trust them to an extent, so hopefully that will play in their favor. Besides, there might be valuable information in the visions that the kings may find useful.

But, ugh, there’s still a pit of anxiety just sitting right in the bottom of their stomach. Withholding this kind of information from Queen Vicouryn especially after they’d started their agreement makes them feel like they’ve been lying to her in some sort of way. Of course they didn’t even think of it until yesterday and they never had any intentions of hiding information from her, but if Vicouryn knew about this before everything, Weiren’s positive that she never would have gone on with this whole arrangement. The queen of Mevaden is cautious of many things, and she would never want to expose herself to the possibility of being observed by the enemy, even if only tangentially via Weiren or even the other members of the Crystal Concord.

The paladin pushes their papers to the side and puts their head down on the table, thinking hard. After a month being apart from her and then finally reuniting, the other fact that they cannot ignore is that they shared a kiss. Certainly they have just a mutually beneficial relationship of exchanging touch but what happened last night was another level of intimacy that they didn’t think would happen. And not just that, but Vicouryn spoke in a way that implied that there would be even more levels that they would climb. Weiren confessing to these dangerous dreams could very well eliminate that future, and that thought is terrifying. They’ve found so much happiness just by seeing and meeting her again; what will they do if they lose that?

Were it not for the doom of this oncoming discussion, Weiren would instead be thinking of much more pleasant things, such as the prospect of another kiss, but, well there’s this whole issue instead. At least it’s an effective way to suppress their brain from going too deep.

The possible consequences can be dire, but Weiren knows that they must talk to her. Before reaching out to each other and finding comfort in their respective touch, they have to tell her everything.

“What has a newly-knighted Waywatcher such as yourself so wound up?”

Weiren practically leaps out of their seat at the voice directly behind them and the cold hands that gently touch their shoulders, their anxious nerves alighting immediately. Last night they were able to see her coming but this time they’re so worried about the prospect of talking to Vicouryn that they’re caught completely off-guard. Looking towards her it seems as if she also wasn’t expecting Weiren to startle quite that hard. She withdraws her hands quickly, letting them return to her sides.

“Vicouryn! Oh, uh, sorry,” Weiren exclaims, both dread and desire pooling in their body in a terrible, terrible concoction of feelings. The queen raises an eyebrow at them.

“I did not mean to startle you,” she says, placing her hands behind her back, “but it appears that there is something on your mind.”

“It’s fine,” Weiren returns automatically, and they can feel the anxiety grow as Vicouryn recognizes that they aren’t quite ready to do what they usually do, not yet. Shit, stop that. “Right, um. Before we do… anything, I, uh, I need to talk to you.”

Vicouryn regards them with a businesslike expression and gives a single nod, waiting for them to continue.

“Could we go somewhere private?” Weiren asks, glancing around nervously in the dark library, “It would be better to talk about it elsewhere.”

“This can be done. Follow me,” she returns coolly, and Weiren hurries to grab all of their papers. Again they’re led through the halls of the castle, taking turns and stairs until they’ve reached her temporary quarters, passing through the study directly to the bedroom yet again. Weiren’s brain is jumping too much, bouncing between thoughts of what occurred on the chaise lounge and what could be occurring shortly. 

Queen Vicouryn sits down on the aforementioned chaise lounge, and Weiren takes in a deep breath before sitting in the opposite armchair to face her, parchments gripped tightly in their hands. Oh gods. Last time they disrobed down to their undershirt and pants, but this time they haven’t removed anything, just in case she sends them away. Vicouryn must have noticed this, but she doesn’t comment on it.

“Please, speak your mind,” Vicouryn says in an impassive voice, resting her chin on the back of her hand. Weiren closes their eyes for a second to steel themself, and forces themself to remember how accepting and considerate the queen has been to them. Surely even if she is upset by this information, she will not fly into a rage? After all, she has a scary amount of control over her emotions.

“I-I’m just going to preface that after hearing this you might not want to keep our… thing… going, but I think it’s important you should know,” Weiren starts, and once the words start going they find they have to avert their gaze and instead just look down, maybe at the papers, because seeing her not react is a little scarier than the other option. They can’t tell what she’s thinking and it makes them incredibly nervous.

They pause for a second to take a breath. There’s no response yet from Vicouryn, so they keep going. Time to just put it all out there. One fell swoop. Here we go.

“Lynne, Dormin and I all have a weird connection to Empress Arkova that allows us to see visions of her during our dreams every once in a while. It was always us seeing her, never the other way around, and she’s never seen us, but slowly she’s becoming aware that somehow, sometimes, we’re there. We didn’t originally tell anyone because we didn’t think they would believe us and we didn’t think it would lead to anything too dangerous. I-I’m telling you now because I’ve sworn to Doluum, and I don’t know if it’s possible she could take control of this connection and use it against us, and that’s dangerous for you- I don’t know if she could see anything or if she could see you through me.” Weiren has to stop again, breathing heavily as they squint down at their own handwriting. “That’s what I’ve been working on. Now that we’re back in Gedal we were planning on telling all of the High Kings. I’ve been writing all of the visions down for all of you and I was going to turn them in as soon as I finished, which I have, and- and you can have this now if you want to see.” They hold out Vicouryn’s copy of the visions, and dare to look up.

Queen Vicouryn’s face has not changed, miraculously, and is still just as expressionless and stoic as always, but maybe Weiren feels the slightest chill in the air. She takes the papers from Weiren, eyes sharpening just a bit as she brings them closer to read them.

“I um- I didn’t mean to hide anything from you,” Weiren continues, adrenaline keeping them going, but the queen holds up a hand to silence them as she takes a look at the first page, and their mouth falls closed, shame already creeping in. Weiren looks down at their hands on their knees, fidgeting as the silence continues. Queen Vicouryn reads quickly through the first few pages; they can hear the parchment shift. The tension is palpable, and Weiren just has to grit their teeth and bear it. They have to be honest.

“So this is why you fell asleep,” she says, finally, after several minutes, “in Mevaden, the day of your departure. I could tell your mind was shaken. You had one of these visions.”

Her voice is very measured, not sounding particularly positive or negative, which Weiren guesses is a good thing?

“Yes,” they answer quietly.

“I should have known something was wrong. It is rare for elves to truly sleep, especially two nights in a row.”

There’s another period of quiet, Vicouryn no doubt taking in all the information that she’s just been presented with. It’s… a lot.

“You say it has always been you three seeing her, and never the other way around,” she speaks again, contemplatively, “and in your most recent vision, she still seemed to not know where you all were.”

That sounds… hopeful? Weiren blinks in surprise.

“Yes,” they repeat. Maybe if there’s no current danger of Arkova being able to see them, Vicouryn won’t mind staying with them? That sounds too good to be true.

Vicouryn stands up, suddenly, and makes her way to the other side of the room, Weiren watching her go curiously. She merely places the documents down on one of the tables next to her bed before turning back to them.

“Then it is not a concern for right now,” she says, and Weiren’s eyes widen. Wait, really? The queen then sits down on the side of her bed, and looks expectantly towards them.

_ Oh _ ,  _ what? _

Weiren gets to their feet, an uncertain look on their face.

“Are you sure?” they ask, brows creased in concern. Vicouryn’s eyes narrow a bit.

“I will not repeat myself,” she returns, patting the spot next to her, “Come.”

Wordlessly Weiren pulls off their outer layers, still blinking in surprise and confusion all the while. Certainly they are glad, but they really didn’t expect the queen to react this way. They drop the fine coat and vest down on the chair, and carefully remove their necklace, the one that carries both their paladin focus and their amber ring. Now down to a loose and thin white long-sleeved undershirt and fine trousers, Weiren makes their way towards Vicouryn. Well, now any anxiety about rejection can just be replaced with plain intimacy anxiety yet again. 

Bravely, they sit just a few inches away this time, closer than they would before at the beginning of these meetings.

“I wonder if there are any other secrets you wish to share,” Vicouryn says, turning to face them, “if that one had you so wrapped up with worry.” She reaches towards them, cupping their face familiarly with a hand. It feels so right for it to be there, holding their cheek. “Anything you might want me to know, that is.”

“I…” Weiren says, thinking quickly, and then they wince. Lynne has suspicions of them, though they’re pretty sure she will never tell anyone, but they did fail to keep their meetings with the queen entirely secret. “My friend, Lynne… she doesn’t know exactly what I’ve been doing, but she suspects that I’ve met you privately. I think she thinks that we’re uh-” Weiren falls quiet for a moment as a blush colors their face, “she probably thinks we are romantically involved, which we both know isn’t true.”

Vicouryn’s brows draw together just the slightest amount.

“She isn’t going to tell anyone, though! I trust her!” They hurry to append, “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep it entirely secret; she saw me when I left in the middle of the night in Mevaden and confronted me about it the next morning. I didn’t tell her any specifics.”

Weiren feels fear mount with every word they say, swallowing nervously as the queen remains still and thinks about this.

“I doubt she would be so foolish as to speak of rumors and secrets that involve me,” The queen finally says, a dark tone in her voice, “She will not be revealing anything. I appreciate your honesty; however, do try to keep this discreet. I would not like for anyone else to know.”

“Of course,” Weiren answers, nodding, relief flooding their body. So it’s all okay. Besides, out of all of the members of the Concord, Lynne is the most guarded and most likely to keep a secret. It should be fine. Hopefully Vicouryn doesn’t do anything to the bard.

“Then is there anything else?” Vicouryn asks, “before we begin?”

“Um,” Weiren says, turning even redder, “I really enjoyed the kiss.”

Vicouryn’s eyebrows lift the slightest bit, and then she cocks her head, a predatory glint appearing in her eyes that makes Weiren gulp. She lifts her other hand to the side of their neck, getting a firm hold on them right where she bit them last time, and just pulls them in closer, their anticipation rising still higher.

Oh thank Celaste Moren. 

Weiren goes to lean in as quickly as they can, but they’re stopped by Vicouryn’s hands, holding them back just a bit.

“Hold. We have plenty of time,” she whispers, noticing their eagerness, “let us go slow. I will make this  _ incredibly  _ pleasurable for you. There is no need for haste.”

Somehow Weiren’s face burns hotter while the queen allows a small smirk to play on her lips, and they nod, trying to tame the desire in their chest. Right, plenty of time. Several hours at least, as it’s the middle of the night, after all. What is she planning on doing? Whatever it is, they await it with baited breath.

Then, at Vicouryn’s pace, the distance between their faces closes, her hands guiding them slowly and carefully until she’s brushing her lips, feather-light, against theirs. Weiren reaches their hands out, wanting to touch her, too and finds purchase on her waist as they lean closer to each other, their eyes falling closed. Gods, how did they ever get here again? How are they so fortunate to have found someone who wants to touch them without dealing with the complexities of love or romance? Things like deep hugs and kisses have always been blocked off by barriers like having a romantic relationship, but they’ve found Queen Vicouryn who has struggled with the same loneliness and allowed them to be this close with a simple agreement. Truly, they are forever indebted to her and so, so grateful. Maybe the two of them can keep to this agreement forever, neither of them ever finding someone else to love and just indulging in the pleasures of touch with one another instead. Weiren doesn’t need to go on dates or tell someone they love them and vice versa if they can spend this kind of time with Vicouryn over and over. 

The queen’s lips dance lightly across theirs, quick and teasing and not going quite as deep as their previous kiss, at least not yet. Weiren again tries to learn from her motions, staying playful and always moving, planting small kisses across her lower lip. There’s something fun and exciting about this type of kiss, too, and Weiren likes it. Thankfully, there’s more opportunity to back away and take a breath, chances to open their eyes for just a second and see Vicouryn’s face where her perfectly controlled expressions fray at the ends, hints of her own desire coming through. They can see that despite the news they’ve shared with her, she is pleased to be able to play with Weiren like this. They can’t deny that they find it very appealing that she wants to do these things to them.

A few minutes in and the kisses begin to deepen. Vicouryn becomes more assertive, and there are moments where she pulls Weiren’s lower lip between her own, tasting them and barely brushing her fangs across them. Weiren finds they enjoy that sensation quite a lot, and then they’re briefly surprised by the touch of Vicouryn’s tongue gently tracing the curve of their lip, reminding them of when she licked their shoulder to taste their blood. They shiver a bit at the memory.

Weiren has certainly read about  _ this  _ before. Whenever they imagined it, before meeting Vicouryn, they always thought it’d be warm, but Vicouryn is cold, though it doesn’t disturb them. It’s a unique feeling that reassures them that it’s  _ her _ and they find they want more of it. Sure it’s only the third time they’ve kissed but they want to go farther, so Weiren parts their own lips, allowing the queen access if she so desires, and they hope she does.

She takes them up on it, thankfully, and Weiren finds a new added sensation of light touches of tongue to the kiss. It starts shallow, Vicouryn barely dipping into their mouth before retreating, inviting them to try it, too, and they do.

It’s almost making them dizzy. The initial testing of this kind of kiss gives way to even more, and it’s not too long before both of them are exploring each other. Weiren has the opportunity to gently feel Vicouryn’s fangs with the tip of their tongue, which is very interesting, and she stills for this moment so as not to accidentally cut them. Then after that it’s back to a dance, Vicouryn licking her way even deeper into Weiren’s mouth, running her tongue along their teeth and tickling the top of their mouth. Though they both take their actions, moving against and alongside each other, it is clear that the vampire is leading and guiding them.

Vicouryn’s hands begin to move, too, running up and sliding down their neck and face, introducing more sensations that almost overwhelm them. There’s a second when her palm is on the back of their head, pulling them even closer, forcing the kiss to deepen even further. Again, Weiren tries to return the favor, tentatively stroking down Vicouryn’s hair to her shoulders, though they find they’re a little too scared to let them go down to her hips. That must be too far; Weiren doesn’t think anything will be going down south at least, which is fine. That’s a whole other sort of uncharted territory that’s terrifying, and they are already satisfied with this. 

How can kissing feel this good? How many people are out there like them, people who just haven’t had the opportunity to explore romance or intimacy, that are missing out on this source of pleasure and happiness? It’s a damn shame.

The two break apart, breathing heavily and staring at each other with partially-lidded eyes. Gods above, they are both enjoying it so much. Even Vicouryn is breathing hard and there’s the slightest flush in her otherwise vampirically pale face. Again they have to process the fact that they’re the one causing these reactions. Somehow they’ve done this to her just as much as she’s done things to them.

“Again, you learn very quickly; you are quite the eager student,” she says after a pause. Weiren nods, wondering how much experience she has from her incredibly long lifespan despite holding herself back from relationships.

“You’re a good teacher,” they say back, prompting the corner of her mouth to lift in satisfaction. Then she’s moving against them, a hand firmly on their shoulder as she slowly pushes them to lie down, their legs still hanging off the side of the bed as she leans over them. Weiren offers no resistance, of course they want whatever she is planning. She hovers over them, deliciously in control as she swings a leg over to straddle their thighs again, partially pinning them down with her weight. 

Wondering if this could perhaps be an opportunity to give some blood, Weiren turns their head to bear their neck, though this time it's their right side. What if she marked them on both left and right? The thought sends a thrill through them.

“Hmm,” Vicouryn muses, low and dark, very clearly pleased with this display of submission. She drags a hand down their face to rest over their shoulder, though it’s blocked from touching their bare skin by fabric. She then trails a finger to their collarbone, hooking it gently behind the topmost button of their shirt. “This is in the way; I will have to open it.”

Weiren shudders an exhale out, and nods their assent. At this point they feel like she can do whatever she wants and they will be happy with it; everything she has done so far has been wonderful. Queen Vicouryn smirks in their periphery, seemingly reacting to their subservience, and takes to unfastening the top few buttons with slow and deliberate fingers, grazing their chest with soft and fleeting touches.

“Now,” she says, unbuttoning the third one, “I will not partake in your blood tonight. I will not repeat the mistakes of before; you  _ must  _ have a day at minimum to recover before I take again.”

Weiren wants to protest; they really want to feel it again, but then they remember the dizziness and nausea of when they lost more than they were ready to lose.

“Okay,” they answer, a little glumly.

“However,” she continues, voice now a little husky, unfastening the fourth and fifth, “I can leave a mark of a different sort in the meantime.”

_ Oh. _

Weiren knows about those, too, but like all other forms of intimacy, they’ve never had that experience, either.

“Please,” they whisper, nodding. It’s embarrassing to say but it’s quite clear the Vicouryn likes the idea of it, so they have nothing to lose by asking for it. She smiles again, at that, and it’s clear she enjoys their submissive and receptive behavior. Weiren is happy that they can make her smile.

Now with most of the buttons undone, Vicouryn pulls the sides of the shirt apart, revealing Weiren’s neck and chest, which in retrospect is the first time she’s seen that. Partially exposed, they flush a little more. Weiren looks up to her and finds her staring down at their skin with eyes partly narrowed. When they look down at themself, she’s starting to draw across them with a light fingernail, tracing what Weiren realizes is one of the scars of the many devastating wounds caused by the Blood Knight. 

It’s a very visible scar, carving through the front of their chest and intersecting with a vertical one that cuts down their shoulder. It’s only thanks to Mathok that the wounds were able to close at all; the cursed greatsword seemed to leech their life away and deal injuries that could not normally heal, even with their divine magic.

“These are recent,” Vicouryn says, running her fingers along the damaged skin, a slightly perturbed tone to her voice.

“The Blood Knight,” Weiren sighs, letting their head fall back to the bed as the memories begin to flow. Red snow, Brauven soldiers, their friends in the distance, running to safety as they fall to the ground. Their eyes close and their forehead creases, fear dancing in their thoughts as they remember accepting death, only they didn’t die, somehow.

They’re drawn back to the present at the sensation of Vicouryn pressing her lips to the end of one of the scars. Weiren’s eyes widen but they stay quiet, watching and feeling as she makes her way to the other end, peppering their chest with soft kisses and touches. There’s a strange sensitivity as she does so; the nerves of the skin damaged by the curse coupled with them not being used to anyone but themself ever touching this party of their body.

They didn’t expect her to react in this way, gently painting over painful memories with something that feels delicate and kind. Again they’re taken aback by this level of consideration.

Vicouryn moves up the scar on their shoulder, leaving behind even more kisses and slowing down as she reaches their neck, finding the softer skin. Weiren gasps at the sensation, and she rises still even more, grazing her lips against their ear, breathing softly against them in a way that sends chills through their body, goosebumps rising on their arms. They didn’t think they would be one to let out any sound but they find incredibly quiet but vocal exhales and hitched breaths escaping them in a way that surprises them. Vicouryn laughs beside them, breath hitting the tip of their ear as they flush even harder.

“What a pleasant surprise,” she says, leaning back and with satisfaction in her voice, “to hear you in this way.” How is she so pleased with them? 

They don’t reply to her words, unable to think of a good answer. It doesn’t matter because Vicouryn moves to press another soft kiss to their lips, taking away their voice. Now that she’s leaned so close over them, Weiren reaches up, their hands looping under her arms and settling down on her back. This kiss doesn’t last too long, and she pulls away after a few seconds.

She leans back to the crook of their neck, though her hand drifts across to the other side where she bit them previously, stroking their skin gently as she searches for an adequate place to mark them.

Oh gods,  _ mark  _ them and not with a vampiric bite but the mark of what people would commonly refer to as one from a lover. Their mind races; normally in the books it’s a sign of possessiveness. They wonder if that’s what she’s thinking of as she finally puts her lips to their skin, low enough that a collar could possibly cover it, maybe, they think at least.

She purses her lips, sealing around a small part of their skin, and applies pressure, sucking at their flesh. Instantly Weiren lets out another vocal gasp, not quite expecting the sensation. It’s forceful, and it hurts a bit, but they want it. Vicouryn stays there for a solid half of a minute at least, interspersing the suction with soft kisses on their tender skin, her hands firmly gripping them and keeping them in place, not that Weiren would  _ want  _ to move. With their own arms they hug her closer, reveling in this feeling.

Finally, it’s over, and Vicouryn withdraws, wiping what must be saliva off of her mouth. The area she focused on feels strange now the pressure has let up.

“I have marked you,” she says, a gleeful glint in her eyes, “and it should show in a few minutes. I hope it is enough to make up for not taking your blood.” There’s a teasing tone to her voice. 

The way she phrases it flusters them greatly, pointing out that they’re the one trying to seek her bite. They frown as more blood rushes to their face. Weiren turns their head to avert their gaze.

“It’s your fault,” they say quietly, “that I like it so much.”

Looking back to Vicouryn reveals a curious head tilt.

“You are the one who offered your blood,” she says, caressing the area of where she previously bit them, “and do not get me wrong, I am quite pleased that you continue to offer it. Your blood is of a certain quality that I do not get often, and it tastes  _ wonderful _ .”

Weiren feels several emotions run through them at this. She  _ likes  _ their blood, even more than others. 

“I’m… glad that you enjoy it,” the paladin finally says, finding that above all they feel a certain joy at this knowledge. That means there’s something specifically about  _ them  _ that she likes beyond just being a source of touch. Something that makes them more valuable to her.

“Believe me, I will take more before you leave Gedal; I merely do not want to hurt you by taking too much too quickly.” Vicouryn brushes hair out of their face with a gentle hand, and there’s a fond expression that kills the words in Weiren’s mouth. They’ve seen the desire of touch, the satisfaction of control and the delight of drinking strong blood in her face before, but there’s a softness to this gentle smile that they’ve never seen. They suppose no one ever sees this, and yet,  _ they _ are. Even if the two of them aren’t anything beyond partners of an agreement, they’ve at least gotten to the point where Vicouryn seems to be quite fond of them, or at least of the services they provide in exchange for her touch. 

Weiren smiles back nervously. A second passes, and then all at once Vicouryn realizes what’s happened. She blinks once and shakes her head, and her control over her expressions returns, softness giving way to impassive dominance. That’s about what Weiren expects, so they don’t mind too much, they think, and Vicouryn instead reaches for their hands, finding their wrists and pinning them down to either side of their head. There’s something about that motion that thrills them, being completely held down, and they nod to show that it is fine. 

She leans back down to kiss them again, leaving behind vague emotions to focus on a physical intimacy that she can control, eyes full of power and desire. Weiren lets her, wanting to feel her lips on theirs again and she makes that happen so easily. This time there’s less of a buildup and she moves quickly to deepen it, both parties opening their mouths to allow the other in, though this time Vicouryn seems intent to establish her own power. Weiren is fine with it, happy with just reciprocating as best they can as long as it keeps going. The queen enacting this kind of control must mean that there’s something about them that she cares about; otherwise why would she kiss them in the first place? Doesn’t it mean that she wants them?

Weiren likes the idea of being wanted, because they don’t think they’ve ever really felt that before.

Vicouryn is a bit more aggressive as the kiss continues, pushing a bit more forcefully against them and claiming their mouth as her territory, touching every bit of them that she can. It’s amazing but they have some trouble keeping up, fingers curling into loose fists in her grasp as they feel their air getting quite low. Her tongue reaches out and presses down against theirs, similar to the positions of their bodies, mirroring her control, and then it slides to the side, grazing their teeth. Weiren can feel their heartbeat speeding up as the need to breathe grows stronger. There’s a dizziness that slowly begins to encroach on their senses, but in a way it feels like it enhances their awareness of her lips on theirs, Vicouryn still deliberately taking what she can from them, and they want to give her everything they can. Somehow she is fine, but they suppose they still don’t really know how much she needs to breathe.

It must have been minutes, but she shows no signs of stopping yet. Vicouryn’s explored Weiren’s mouth quite extensively, and she still isn’t satisfied, running over every surface she can find over and over, reaching deep until she is all they can taste. Weiren’s trying to reply as best they can, reacting with their own lips and tongue but they aren’t as experienced and can’t move quite as quickly. Vicouryn easily overpowers them, her desire to enact control dictating what happens without Weiren’s input, though they’ve really just been wanting her to do as she pleases to them this entire time, always open and receptive and desiring of whatever she’s interested in doing. In this case, it’s Vicouryn licking her way deep into Weiren and showing them what she can do, exhibiting her strength and experience until Weiren wants nothing but her, until they can’t possibly imagine ever kissing anyone but her, not that they can imagine anyone else who might want them, anyway. They’re lost in her aggressive touch, falling victim to her predatory motions until they’re simply and easily  _ hers _ .

They could stay like this forever, trapped in her grasp and experiencing this kind of intimacy and pleasure for all eternity.

Eventually Weiren is so lightheaded and delirious they need to break away, turning their head to suck in gulps of air, chest heaving as they try to recover. Vicouryn takes this opportunity to duck down to their collarbone, still intent on kissing them even if not on their mouth, and they realize a little late that she’s marking them again. Marking them while holding them down, almost like a predator.

Weiren can’t think too hard about it, focusing instead on returning their breath to a normal pace. It’s so much and Vicouryn is more forceful but they find they like it just as much as her more controlled motions. Her ministrations prompt them to tilt their neck back, arching just a bit to allow her more room. They wonder how they would even go about giving someone a mark like that, but they aren’t sure if Vicouryn will allow that. Probably not.

“That’s twice, now,” she says, pulling away, the slightest hint of a growl in her voice, “twice that I’ve marked you this way. I hope you will not forget this.” Her tone is dark and predatory and Weiren has to wonder if she’s actually feeling possessive? Over them?

“I won't,” they reply, still partly breathless and reveling in being locked in her grasp. Vicouryn looks down at them with a scrutinizing look and the predatory glint fades away, leaving something else instead. The queen’s grip on Weiren’s wrists loosen, and they have to wonder if her being so forceful is indicative of her losing some amount of control, and she’s only now realizing it. She sits back upright, still gazing down at them with pursed lips, seemingly more focused, but Weiren’s seeing her through half-lidded eyes and a strange giddiness that seems to bypass any of their own control. “Thank you,” they whisper, reaching up a hand to brush at their neck, finding the tender spots that the queen marked. It feels strange, but they like it. New marks in addition to all of the remains of her bites on them, all symbolizing her claim on their body, with the promise of more to come in the future.

Gods, what they must look like to her, breathless and partly shirtless with reddened lips. Queen Vicouryn has another expression of vague incredulity, like she does every time Weiren expresses gratitude or consideration to her. How silly of her, doesn’t she know how much they like being around her? Doesn’t she realize what she’s done for them?

Weiren sits up to wrap their arms around her midsection, leaning their head against her chest happily. Kissing has been fun but there’s something else about hugging that’s just as wonderful in a different way. Vicouryn doesn’t move at first, but she reciprocates after a few seconds, her own arms hesitantly coming around their shoulders. 

“Thank you so much,” Weiren repeats, mouth moving against Vicouryn as they hug a little harder, “I really… um… appreciate this.”

Something tugs at their consciousness. Weiren’s eyelids feel quite heavy. A comforting hand sits on their head, brushing down their hair. They’re vaguely aware of Vicouryn’s voice, but not enough to hear what she says, and then they’re falling back, vision swimming with sudden fatigue. 

Weiren recognizes this sensation with a start, but their body is so sluggish they can’t fight against it, like they’ve been drugged. 

“Vision,” they mumble, squinting up at Vicouryn’s blurring face, who has some kind of expression that they can’t really parse, “Arkova,” they try to say, but they can’t be sure if they actually said it or not. They try to reach up to the queen, but even their arms feel heavy and slow. “Protect… yourself…”

Weiren falls into darkness, their spirit shifting and pulling from their body until they’re sent soaring across the continent yet again.

  
  



	16. Secrets Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vicouryn summons a member of the Crystal Concord to a private audience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter chapter this time but uh. lol just u guys wait for the next one though.  
> also i am writing the sequel and i just wrote a 13k word chapter of literally nonstop spice so. theres stuff coming.  
> enjoy!

_ They’re pulled away, dragged north against their will, forced to go and see her again. There’s cold snow and a night sky, and they sink into the ground, pushing through ice and rock until they’re in a large, expansive, underground chamber. _

_ This time, she’s in another marker. Weiren can see a familiar set of huge stone doors and carvings on the walls, though it is not the marker that they have been to before. _

_ But unlike before, this room is filled with strange devices. Metal curved and bent into intricate shapes cover the floor, humming with arcane sigils. There’s a ring of blue lights, and at the center stands her: Ana Arkova, beside a glass device with suspended tuning forks held inside. The empress is not in full uniform, down to a loose undershirt and soldier’s pants and boots. There’s a sheen of sweat on her skin as she holds her hand against the glass, muttering. _

“ _ The connection… no, it’s too fast… it should be here…” her words drift to them, pulling them closer. The tuning forks begin to vibrate, filling the room with a strange tone, and a smile forms on her face. “There you are, there you are.” With that, she turns her head, glancing about the room, and then she addresses them. “Hello again.” _

_ Fear and nausea fill Weiren. _

“ _ I still can’t feel you, but I know you’re here,” she says, “After all, I opened the connection myself, this time.” With her free hand she reaches behind her to a table, scrawling words and numbers down into a journal. “Even now, it’s still unsettling to know I’m being watched right now, and I can’t even feel it. No scrying aura, no presence in my mind. Something has dragged you here. There are a few hypotheses at this point, but I’m pretty sure you can hear me. Why don’t you try saying something?” _

_ Weiren is curious, but they can’t make a sound, not in the usual way. Torn from their body, it is only their spirit lingering here, and their attempts to hum lead to nothing. _

“ _ Well, it wouldn’t be that simple,” she continues, shaking her head, “The leading hypothesis is that your spirits have been tethered to mine. I didn’t expect that from my experiments, though looking back it makes perfect sense. After all, there is a rich, documented history of spirits being tethered to people that I’m getting a chance to pick apart. I imagine it’s surprisingly similar, but I am still here. The fact that I have a physical body and am still here is… well… certainly I feel like a scion with three young hero spirits.” _

_ Somehow, Ana Arkova is gaining some sort of control over this connection, and it terrifies Weiren, but they are also so, so curious. How can she manipulate the markers and the ley lines to do this? _

_ Arkova crouches next to the device, pressing her forehead against the glass. _

“ _ It’s already been a few minutes, and you’re still here,” she breathes, “I hope I’ve strengthened the connection properly. I could only guess how long you would stay before, based on what you’ve said, but a connection for this long and this far… if it was a spell it wouldn’t be significant, but it’s more than that.” _

_ Weiren reaches, trying to push their thoughts forward. _

_ Why are you doing this, they try to ask, but it is met with no reaction. _

_ Arkova stands back up, and the resonance of the tuning forks begins to fade away. She pushes her blond hair away from her face, wiping at the sweat on her forehead. _

“ _ It’s been a long time since I felt like I’ve really found something new to experiment with, and I can’t even tell anyone. Not yet, anyway,” she says tiredly, “But I think I know where to go from here. Next time, how about we have a proper conversation?” _

_ Her hand falls away from the glass device, and the tones playing in the air become discordant, falling out of line. _

_ There’s another tug, they can feel, and they’re being dragged away again, pulled through the rock and the earth, unable to resist as their spirit returns to their body.  _

***

Weiren gasps awake as they sit up, feeling cold and clammy as they take in shaking breath after shaking breath. 

Empress Arkova is finding ways to control their connection, and they’re terrified. What if she learns how to grab their spirits and force them to her, keeping them from ever returning to their bodies? What if she figures out to reverse it, and comes visit and observe them without them ever noticing?

Weiren looks around the room anxiously, finding themself still in Vicouryn’s chambers. They’ve been laid down on the bed with the blanket partially pulled over them, but the room is still dark and the queen is nowhere to be found.

That’s good, right? Arkova couldn’t have seen Vicouryn if she’d somehow managed to glimpse their body, but it also seems unlikely that she would be able to do that while focusing on drawing the spirits of the Crystal Concord to her.

Weiren lets their body calm down, slowing down their breaths and focusing on the senses of the present, like the soft comforter against their hands and the slight chill of the air. 

Whatever Arkova is planning, for the moment they are okay.

The paladin draws the comforter off and climbs out of the bed, and notices that their shirt has been buttoned back up properly. From their memory, this must mean that Vicouryn… put them to bed after the vision forced them to unconsciousness. Weiren can picture their limp body, lying on the bed and so incredibly vulnerable before the queen as she simply and carefully refastens their shirt.

Oh, right…

Weiren feels a slight heat rise to their face as they recall exactly what happened last night. They step nervously towards the mirror in the corner of the room and pull aside their collar to get a look at exactly what they look like under the fabric now.

There, dark, purplish, and prominent, are two spots, one on the side where the shoulder slopes up to their neck, and another more in the front, sitting right on their collarbone.

Gods.

She really… she really did mark them.

They twist their head to get a look at where she also bit them back in the library, and find the small scabbed dots on their shoulder, amongst the faint scarred remnants of the bites from a month ago.

Weiren pulls the fabric back to cover it and sighs, shaking their head. What does it mean? What have they done? Kissing and touching makes sense, to an extent, of just indulging in intimacy. Marking is another  _ several _ steps beyond that. Every time they meet her, it seems like the vague line they have in their head has to shift down to accommodate the new things that keep occurring between them. First it was just holding and stroking hair, then lying beside one another, then touching each other’s scars, and then they had to split. After a month apart, Weiren tried to offer touch back, and then they jumped farther forward to her kissing them.

It was a catalyst for more.

After that one single kiss, the two of them just kept going. The following morning, an even deeper kiss. Then that night, even more. Kissing like their lives depending it while Vicouryn held them down on  _ her bed _ and sucking at their skin to leave behind reminders of what they did. Weiren practically  _ asked  _ her to do it in lieu of not getting drained and she did, not once but twice, and now there’s visual evidence of the deed right on their skin.

Certainly they don’t regret it, they think, but didn’t they go farther than they were ever meaning to? Vicouryn said they could go as far as they wanted but isn’t there still a limit? How far does  _ she  _ want to go? How far should Weiren want to go?

There’s the sound of the door opening and Weiren hurries away from the mirror as Vicouryn enters. They can’t help it, seeing her just makes them think of her pressed against them, nibbling and laving their skin. They must have lost their mind last night; they were so overwhelmed and just basking in the bliss of touch that they’d lost all their sense of thought and just let themself be entirely at her mercy in a way they never really have before. 

She did so many things to them, and they loved every second of it, but gods they really  _ did  _ that. They’re certain that they’re as red as a beet. Weiren has to stop their hand from reaching up to press down on their neck, and they find they have to avert their eyes for a bit as they work up the nerve.

“I see you are awake,” Vicouryn says, closing the door behind her to take in the sight the paladin, “Did you have another vision?”

Oh, yes, right. Visions. Thinking about the events of last night had completely pushed aside their thoughts of Arkova. They shake their head to clear their mind.

“Yes,” Weiren answers, “It’s… bad. Normally they’re random, but this time she was able to call us to her, and for a longer time than usual.” They look up at her, brows knitted together in fear, “She’s figuring out how to manipulate the connection. I don’t think she can see us, not yet, but I don’t… I don’t know what she’s capable of.”

“Called you to her? Tell me what she did,” Vicouryn returns, her eyes narrowing.

“I- it was weird. She was in another marker, I think, but she had all this technology and magic set up. She was using it to draw our spirits forth or something, with some glass device,” Weiren says nervously, trying to re-imagine the scene in their head. “I should write this down. I should record it before I forget any details. I…”

They fall silent, looking around to see where their things are. It’s probably time for them to leave, soon.

“I’ll be requesting an audience with the kings as soon as I can,” Weiren adds, “Once I write this down, I’ll turn everything in.”

There’s a pause as Vicouryn considers them.

“She did not do anything else to you?” She says, slowly, “You… are unharmed?”

“Oh, um- I’m fine,” Weiren answers, blinking in surprise at that, “She just... talked to us, but we couldn't reply. Nothing else really happened.”

They are fine, they’re pretty sure. There’s a noticeable thumping, they realize, in their chest. The queen’s eyes shift somehow at their expression.

Vicouryn steps closer to them, prompting them to look up with slightly widened eyes and reddened cheeks.

“Then I suppose we can discuss that matter at the audience. For now, tell me how you feel about the other events of the night, prior to this vision,” She says, reaching out a hand to their chest. Weiren jumps a bit as she pulls aside the fabric, revealing one of the gifts she’d given them. She tilts her head at the sight of it, a small, dark smirk forming on her lips. “These have come in quite well. I hope you like them. I wonder if I have satisfied some of your curiosities regarding the intimacy that comes with companionship.”

Weiren sucks in a sharp breath at the touch of her chilled fingertips, and she intentionally lets them drift across their skin just the slightest bit before withdrawing, letting the cloth return to its natural position.

“Yes, um,” they begin, heartbeat accelerating immediately at the way she speaks, “It was… good?”

“I see. Did anything go beyond your level of comfort?” She inquires, a serious expression on her face, “I want to be certain that we did not step past any boundaries you did not want to cross; I understand that in the moment it can be difficult to think of such things, and...” She pauses, weighing her words prior to saying them, “I would not be surprised if you found me to be more...  _ aggressive _ than you were expecting.”

“N-no,” Weiren says, shaking their head, a little thrown off by her seemingly genuine concern, “it was all fine! It was great. Um. Thanks… I guess, for your time? And… for dealing with me passing out and everything…” Morally they feel like they should have regretted the things that happened but they know deep down that they enjoyed every bit of it and they want to do more of it.

Vicouryn lets out one of her quiet, amused laughs at Weiren’s flustered behavior.

“Good. Tell me if you ever feel otherwise,” She says, and Weiren nods, both a little embarrassed at having to actively express that yes, they did enjoy Vicouryn kissing them with reckless abandon, and comforted by the fact that she is actively making certain that they are fine with everything that occurs. It’s very considerate of her, and frankly not at all what happens in the novels for a good chunk of time. Somehow the characters just  _ know  _ what the other wants without ever verbally confirming it, but Weiren isn’t a mind reader, though Vicouryn actually might be… wait a second, she  _ can  _ implant impulses, right? “And you are quite welcome.”

“I will,” they return, pushing the thought aside. They might just die if Vicouryn actually could peer into their head. Weiren's been harboring so many overly intimate thoughts that if she knew about them, they would just keel over and pass away.

“I am glad to hear it. I suppose you must be going, then, if you are to be finishing those documents of yours,” Vicouryn says, straightening her back.

“Right, yes,” Weiren nods their head, willing the red away from their face. They have to go talk to the others, too, about the vision. They’ll probably have to make up another excuse as to why it took them so long to come over, maybe just say they were out again in the library working when the vision hit.

They retrieve their belongings from the chaise lounge and redress, mind reeling from both Vicouryn’s actions and Arkova’s vision. There’s too much to think about.

“Um, goodbye, Vicouryn,” they say quietly, fastening their necklace back on. 

“Hold,” she says, squinting at them. She steps closer and reaches out to adjust their coat, pulling one side of the collar properly up. “There, that better covers it.”

_ Ohhhh gods… _

Weiren’s hand flies up to their neck, all of the blood they’d forced away from their face returning with a vengeance.

“I guess it is a bit more visible than I originally thought. Take care to hide it, will you?” Vicouryn muses, a teasing tone in her voice. “Any of the higher collars should be sufficient.”

“Y-yes, okay,” Weiren coughs.

“Goodbye, then,” she returns, guiding them back to the study to exit.

Weiren sneaks a glance left and right down the hall, and makes a hasty and sneaky retreat back to their friends.

***

_ The paladin makes their way as quickly as possible to their friends, mind running with thoughts of visions and vampires. _

_ Thankfully, due to Weiren having their nearly finished documents in their possession, the rest of the Crystal Concord buys their story of having fallen asleep in the library while working. A frantic discussion of what they saw ensues, and the party agrees that it is even more pertinent to have an audience with the kings. Weiren finishes their reports, including copies of the newest vision, and turns them into the receptionist at the castle. _

_ Later that day, a courier lets the Crystal Concord know that their request for an audience has been accepted, and that they will be seeing the High Kings this afternoon. _

***

“Pardon, Miss Klais,”

Lynne glances back at the courier curiously. What more could they have for her and not the rest of the Concord?

“Yes?” She returns respectfully.

“Her majesty, Queen Vicouryn has requested your time after the audience this afternoon. Once that audience is concluded, an attendant will be waiting in the main hall to escort you,” the man says, passing Lynne a small envelope.

The bard stares down at the paper warily before taking it.

“Did… her majesty say why?” She inquires. Really the only thing she can think of is that perhaps the queen is upset that Lynne did not swear the oath to Doluum alongside her friends. Lynne turns the letter over in her hands, an uneasy feeling settling in her gut.

“Not to me,” the courier answers, “but perhaps it’s included in the summons. Anyway, that’s all I have for you. Have a good day.” With that, the man departs, leaving Lynne to contemplate the possibilities of this request. She’s glad that the other members of the Concord weren’t around to witness that.

Lynne pops the seal off of the envelope and pulls out a very official looking piece of paper. It’s fairly unassuming, with a general fancy script requesting Lynne’s time and basically repeating the meager information given by the courier. Turning the paper over doesn’t reveal any hidden threats or warnings. She can’t tell what this meeting is supposed to be for.

Quite literally the only other thing she can think of is the fact that she’s pretty certain that Vicouryn is having a secret affair with her friend Weiren, but it’s still hard to even parse that thought considering how incredibly different the two of them are. Maybe the queen has them under control via some kind of threat or blackmail, but no, that doesn’t make sense because Weiren’s just sworn knighthood to Doluum and has done nothing but help Vicouryn, unless she’s just manipulating them with sweet words and vampiric charm. Lynne doesn’t think the queen would actually do that though, especially considering Weiren is an adventurer and has only had a brief window of time to actually meet her.

Not to mention that the paladin has a general discomfort being amongst the higher-class, and Lynne’s pretty certain that Vicouryn has a taste for the finer things in life.

Back in Mevaden, Weiren had said they just helped Vicouryn out with something, and honestly there are a lot of different ways that can be taken. How likely is it that the humble and quiet Weiren has somehow managed to catch the attention of the deadly and vampiric Queen of Mevaden? To be fair, though, they  _ were  _ the one out of the Crystal Concord to offer their blood when she needed it most.

This has been something she’s thought about a couple of times, but she hasn’t pried any further out of respect for Weiren’s privacy. 

But like, holy shit what the hell are they actually doing though?

Lynne sighs, brushing loose hairs back behind her ears as she composes herself. There’s not much to do but go to this meeting later and just find out what will happen. Vicouryn probably won’t assassinate her on the spot; even if Lynne didn’t swear her oath, she is still an established ally to Doluum.

***

Weiren finds that they keep zoning out while running some errands, but really, who can blame them? Who wouldn’t be zoning out after spending a night in which the Queen of Mevaden not only kissed them multiple times, but left her marks on them as well? Is that… is that  _ okay? _ Are they allowed to do that?

Who could have known that she was interested in that level of intimacy? Perhaps it makes sense, if she’s as deprived of touch as they are, though it is clear she has more experience than they do, at the very least.

They have to wonder if any of it is due to somehow her being attracted to them, but again  _ no  _ that can’t be the reason. She must just enjoy the activities a lot, and Weiren’s the only one around she can do them with and yield no consequences, they guess.

But wow. Even if she doesn’t harbor any feelings for them, she certainly makes them feel a certain way with the things she’s been doing.

Weiren realizes a little smile has broken out on their face, and they shake their head. They have things to do, after all. Upon clearing their mind they realize they’ve wandered into the romance section of the bookshop. Oh!

_ Well… I mean… _

No harm in reading, right?

Weiren bites their lip and looks left and right, finding no other customers in their vicinity. Surely they’ve got a chance to just peruse these?

_ Maybe there’s one with a vampire- _

Ack, wait. Weiren shakes their head again. Just because they’ve been having fun getting physically intimate with a vampire doesn’t mean they need to keep thinking about a romance, though the thought unfortunately just keeps popping back into their head.

But like… 

Just thinking about it can’t do too much, right?

Weiren gives themself a second to imagine it. Maybe instead of a private room, Weiren and Vicouryn are walking beside each other, hand in hand, down a moonlit garden. Now away from whatever fanciful ball or banquet that’s occurring, Vicouryn takes the chance to take a drink of her own as clouds briefly obscure the moon, and Weiren likes it. 

Then there must surely be a gazebo of some kind, in an isolated corner of the gardens, where the two of them can talk into the night, still with fingers entwined, and Vicouryn with a gentle expression that only Weiren ever sees. She tells them how good they look in the new Mevaden clothes that she’s had tailored for them, and they certainly blush in return. Then she reaches out to pull their bun down again, letting their hair fall down around their shoulders again, wavy and long and shifting in the breeze. In this fantasy she likes to be the only one to see it fully down, and Weiren laughs, tossing their hair to shake it out. Vicouryn runs a gentle hand through a lock and tucks it behind their ear, and she pulls them close to share a secret kiss under the night sky.

Oh gods.

Weiren’s caused themself to flush, and they hastily put whatever book they’ve been holding down.

They  _ have  _ kissed before so it isn’t new but it’s never really been in a romantic context and that just adds a whole new level of emotion to it. Can Weiren ever become that important to Vicouryn? Certainly not. especially not when she’s a queen with a kingdom now at war.

They shouldn’t think of things they can’t have. They’re already blessed to have her time for some hours every night, and quite blessed indeed to have her touch. There’s no sense in longing for something more emotional, not that they're in love or anything.

The paladin grabs some other romance book, this one pointedly not about any dark and mysterious vampiric women, and departs the shop, leaving a gold piece on the counter.

***

_ The Crystal Concord attends their meeting with the three High Kings yet again, revealing everything they know about the visions. Luckily, due to most of the party having sworn their loyalty to Doluum, the kings trust them, though they warn that this is a problem that must be solved. _

_ After discussing the visions, King Rundahl reveals he will be leaving Gedal before the end of the week, and invites the Crystal Concord to accompany them if they still plan to head west. After the meeting, however, Lynne knows she still has unfinished business with at least one of the High Kings... _

***

There’s a few minutes where Lynne is left to loiter awkwardly in the main hall, waiting for the attendant to show up. Just about when she isn’t certain if she’s in the right place or not, a woman approaches her.

“Miss Klais,” she says, “please, follow me.”

Lynne is led through a series of halls by the woman. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous; royalty as high as a monarch is dangerous to deal with, even ones who  _ aren’t  _ secretly undead vampires.

“After you,” the attendant says, pushing the door open for Lynne and revealing a small conference room of some sort. Of course, as if to maximize intimidation, Queen Vicouryn is framed perfectly in the center of the door, an impassive expression on her face. She sits at the head of the table, clearly in a position of authority and power.

“Thank you,” Lynne returns to the attendant, “Greetings, your majesty,” she then addresses the queen, stepping inside and dipping into a respectful bow, still mindful of etiquette even if she’s a little terrified of what Vicouryn has in store for her. The door closes behind her, sealing off the sounds of other people from the halls and leaving her and the queen alone.

“You may rise,” the cold voice of Queen Vicouryn says, and Lynne does, feeling a little sweat bead on the back of her neck.  _ Here goes _ .

The queen gestures to the seat across from her, and Lynne stiffly makes her way to the chair and sits down, hands in her lap and with her back straight. She wonders where her friends went after the previous audience with the High Kings; she wishes she was there instead of here.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, your majesty?” Lynne asks, in as level a voice she can muster, not wanting to assume anything. Queen Vicouryn raises a slim hand to her chin as she regards the tiefling.

“Lynne Klais,” she begins, and hearing her full damn name in that terrifying voice sends a sharp sense of dread through Lynne, “of the Crystal Concord, and the only member who has not sworn to Doluum.”

Lynne has her practice in concealing her emotions, and she does not flinch at the jab, even if she can feel it hit. She wonders if perhaps Tir-Jiloth is watching over her right now, because it would be nice to know that she isn’t completely alone and about to be eviscerated with no witnesses.

She waits, holding her own impassive expression against Vicouryn’s, knowing that what she said is only just the address, and the information is yet to come.

Finally, Queen Vicouryn’s hand falls back to the table and she leans back in her chair just the slightest bit.

“I have been informed that you harbor suspicions,” she states, boring her eyes into Lynne, watching for any reaction, “suspicions regarding me...” Lynne thinks she feels another sweatdrop beading on the side of her face. Suspicions? About what? This isn’t about her lack of oath-swearing, at least, but what is she talking about?

There’s a few seconds as she’s silently trying to figure out what exactly the queen is referring to.

“...And your elf paladin companion,” the queen appends, after seeing Lynne’s lack of response.

_ Oh no _ .

Wait is she  _ confessing  _ to having something with Weiren? Were Lynne’s suspicions actually correct? Lynne swallows nervously, but conceals it well enough, she thinks. Wait, how does Vicouryn even know- did  _ Weiren  _ actually tell her that Lynne had theories? Gods. What are they doing?

“Don’t you, Lynne Klais?” Vicouryn says, “Did you not have a talk with your friend back in Mevaden?”

Lynne briefly considers the pros and cons of possibly just lying her way out of this and feigning ignorance, but something tells her that the queen would know, and that being caught lying would make this infinitely worse. The queen’s gaze is unrelenting, and it feels a little chilly all of a sudden.

“I merely… was concerned for Weiren,” Lynne begins carefully, “the morning after the Blood Vow, that is.” Queen Vicouryn’s eyes don’t waver, not even a bit as Lynne speaks, and she has to fight the urge to look away. “They were acting a little strange and seemed worried about something, so I asked if anything was wrong. They… confessed that they had a meeting with you, but nothing more.”

“Naturally you must have made some assumptions after a conversation such as that,” Queen Vicouryn says, tilting her head, “I am curious to know what exactly you are thinking is going on.”

Lynne’s a little thrown off by the fact that the queen isn’t even trying to deny anything; normally wouldn’t royalty not want to admit to having any kind of secret business with people beneath their status? What is the purpose of this meeting? 

To be honest, she still doesn’t know exactly what Weiren has been up to with the queen, even if her suspicions point very hard towards some kind of intimate relationship of some sort, but she can’t be certain.

“I assumed that they were consulting you regarding something after the Blood Vow,” Lynne answers, “though I cannot really imagine what. I do not have much interest in prying into the personal affairs of my friends, so I haven’t asked them anything more.” The musician very carefully picks her words, trying not to imply anything. She pretends not to remember jokingly asking Weiren if they’d found a secret lover.

“Really,” the queen says, deadpan, and Lynne can tell that she doesn’t quite buy what she’s saying, “I was under the impression you might have been thinking something else. One would think it would be pertinent to be truthful before  _ me _ , wouldn’t they?” The queen folds her hands on the table, piercing Lynne with her gaze in a way that feels like she might be taking physical damage of some kind. “We have both seen enough of those foolish enough to  _ lie  _ and  _ omit  _ information from me, haven’t we?”

Lynne sweats. What exactly is worse? Half-lying to the queen, or truthfully implying that she’s having an affair of some kind (even if Lynne still can’t actually imagine the two of them really together)?

“I… did have the impression that perhaps they had developed a more personal relationship with you,” Lynne tries, “after that talk, but it is difficult to speculate anything more. Weiren does not… normally engage much with those in higher classes for anything other than getting the job done.” There, that sounds okay, right?

“Hm,” the queen returns with a low chuckle, “a  _ personal relationship _ , is it? I suppose that is an adequate answer.”

There’s a brief silence that settles over both of them. Lynne isn’t sure whether she should be relieved or even more stressed by the expression of amusement from the queen.

“I am unsurprised, however, by that fact. The paladin does not seem like the type to do such things,” Vicouryn says, a small smile on her face, “I wonder how long you have been traveling with them.”

Oh, an interesting change in conversation. Lynne doesn’t know what to think about it but she’ll answer as best she can.

“I believe it’s been about two months” Lynne answers, “but we have been through quite a lot- the entire Concord, that is.”

“I imagine traveling in a party does much to strengthen the bonds of those in it,” Queen Vicouryn comments, and Lynne nods in return. “You must have learned quite a lot about each other.”

Gods, why does she have to phrase everything like that?

“Certainly,” Lynne says, “we ended up having more in common with each other than we initially thought.”

“Oh?” Vicouryn raises a brow, “such as?”

Uhh…

“We have similar backgrounds, is all,” Lynne says hastily, not wanting to just spill Weiren’s own past without their permission.

“Interesting, though I am curious to know what you might have discovered about your friend during your time together,” Queen Vicouryn says pointedly, re-emphasizing her intent.

Lynne frowns inwardly; is the queen unable to just ask Weiren directly? Why is she asking  _ her _ about this? 

“Well,” she begins, shifting in her seat, “they seem to be quite at home in the natural world, and from what I’ve seen, they are very willing to go out of their way to help others.”

Queen Vicouryn looks at her with an impassive face again.

“This is some very general information one could glean with just a glance,” she says, “perhaps your friendship doesn’t run as deep as I’d thought.”

_ Excuse me? _

“They also don’t drink,” Lynne adds through a tight mouth, frankly perturbed by the queen’s implications, but what can she do against a queen? At that, there’s a slight shift in the queen’s expression, as if she is actually surprised by that information.

“I wonder what reason they could have for such a behavior,” Vicouryn returns quickly, still phrasing her words so as not to be direct questions in an infuriating way.

“Perhaps you could ask them yourself,” Lynne retorts, “I wouldn’t know.”

Queen Vicouryn sits back, narrowing her eyes. Oh, shit.

“What I mean to say,” Lynne hurries to amend her words, “is that Weiren is fairly reserved, so there is much that I and the rest of the Crystal Concord do not know. They don’t openly share that much information about themself. If you are looking to learn more, then it would be best to ask them directly.”

Lynne presses her lips together and looks at the queen, awaiting her response with fear.

Then, after a moment, Queen Vicouryn looks down and to the side, breaking the gaze. Lynne can feel her own shoulders sink with relief at that; eye contact with Vicouryn is terrifying.

“I suppose… that is a logical suggestion,” Vicouryn finally, slowly says. Oh, what, really? Lynne blinks in surprise; the queen is still looking away from her.

If Lynne has to guess what expression the queen currently has, she might… call it… bashful? No, that’s impossible. It’s too hard to tell. Her face is too stoic, and really all Lynne can go off of is the breaking of eye contact and the change in vocal tone.

_ But for real, hold on, is she actually? _

Lynne is having trouble knowing what to think about this entire encounter. She came into this meeting fearing for herself and for Weiren, wondering if the queen had all these nefarious plans in place for them, but now she’s wondering if actually the queen is wrestling with some emotions of her own perhaps?

That’s quite an assumption to make… but based on what she’s been asking...

After a few more seconds, the queen draws her head back up with her face completely schooled of any emotion, matching Lynne’s gaze again.

“I’m sure you know it would be quite foolish to speak of this to anyone, right, Lynne Klais?” She says, voice low and challenging, “And like you’ve said, it certainly wouldn’t be proper to pry and interfere with Weiren’s business; you wouldn’t want to jeopardize any positive arrangements they’ve found. After all, they  _ are  _ your dear and respected friend, aren’t they?”

The whiplash from Vicouryn’s change in demeanor takes Lynne aback for a second there. She nods, speechless.

“That’s good to  _ hear _ , Lynne Klais,” The queen repeats her name with a steely look, emphasizing her intent. Lynne’s blood runs cold.

“Right, yes,” Lynne quickly says, “I understand, your majesty.”

“ _ Good,”  _ Vicouryn says in a dark voice, satisfied she has conveyed her threat well enough, which to Lynne, she definitely has, “Then, you are dismissed. Thank you for your time.”

The way she says that last part doesn’t really sound like gratitude, but Lynne just nods again.

“Of course, your majesty. Have a nice evening,” she says, standing up and dropping into another bow. With that, she leaves, shutting the door behind her.

Gods, what in the nine hells? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the player of lynne approves of this chapter and she helped me write it thanks  
> lol after months, this fic came up in convo with lynne player and the DM while we were playing apex and now he has the link and only celaste moren knows if he is actually gonna read it. fucking yolo i guess hashswag yolo 🤪


	17. Wine & Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiren partakes in alcohol for the first time and lets slip a few dangerous words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hooty... hoo :)

“I’ve… never drunk before,” Weiren confesses, warily watching as Vicouryn tilts the bottle and pours a gobletful of what looks to be a dark red wine. The queen looks at them as she sets the bottle back down, perhaps surprised.

This time, when the two of them entered her room, they were caught off guard by a tray on a table next to the chaise lounge. There was a large, unopened bottle of wine, two goblets, two glasses, and a pitcher all sitting atop it. Weiren guesses the pitcher is for water, but they wonder if Vicouryn actually drinks alcohol herself.

“Certainly an adventurer like yourself has had your fair share of drink?” She says, an eyebrow raised, and Weiren shakes their head, a little embarrassed. “You don’t partake, then, I presume.” She keeps her gaze on them as she pulls a feathered clip from the back of her head, letting her black hair fall naturally down her back. 

“I don’t,” Weiren echoes, shifting their weight uncomfortably, “I haven't yet, at least.”

Vicouryn comes over and places a gentle hand on their arm, leading them over to sit down on the chaise lounge, where they both begin to remove their outer layers in preparation. Weiren watches her a little wistfully out of the corner of their eye, knowing that it is a great sign of trust for her to be comfortable enough with them to disrobe like this in front of them, though there is still a certain level of modesty. Neither of them are that exposed, just down to their most basic layers.

“You are under no obligation to drink if you do not wish to, though I am curious as to the reason for your abstinence, if there is one at all,” she states, sitting across them in a chair, “I was hoping that tonight we could chat for a bit over some wine prior to our usual activities.”

 _Usual activities._ What a way to put it. Weiren flushes, thinking back to what occurred last time. Frankly they still can’t believe it happened, Vicouryn practically claiming them in more ways than one with marks and intense kisses that stole their breath away. They wonder if such a thing will happen tonight again. Frankly they’re lucky they were able wear their higher collared shirt to conceal some such marks; who knows what could have happened if their friends, or even worse, the other knights, took notice?

“Some people change when they’re drunk,” Weiren answers carefully, trying to push the intimate thoughts away, “and they become violent or cruel. I’m a little scared of what I might become.”

That’s all true. The other reason is that Weiren isn’t certain they trust anyone to witness them while they test out such a sensation, though, on second thought… there is someone they’ve trusted to see much more of them than they were ever planning.

That doesn’t mean they haven’t wondered what it might be like, though. They’ve had friends spill secrets or fall over their own feet while quite drunk. Dormin and Kainen have gotten drunk plenty of times in their travels together, and neither of them have become particularly nasty. Rather it seems that they’re more open, they talk more with slurred voices, senses vague and floaty, and overall they’re a bit more vulnerable.

It is also a pretty common scenario, they’ve read, for lovers to engage in a night of passion after drinking together. Sometimes alcohol is actually the catalyst for intimacy to form in the stories. Some say it enhances the experience. How will it feel to have Vicouryn against them if they’re also drunk?

“I see,” Vicouryn says, “though it is worth mentioning that in my experience, most people do not change that drastically. Certainly there are a few, but it is quite common for people to drink over meals, and at most it emboldens them, or perhaps makes them a little less intelligent. Going overboard, however, is another story entirely.”

Right, they’ve heard people call alcohol liquid courage. How bold will they be?

“I have been curious,” Weiren admits, “I’m just scared. There aren’t really many I’d trust to see me in that state, especially if it goes poorly. And I’m certainly a little terrified of you seeing me like that, since I have no idea what will happen.” Gods, what if they’re so horrible that she never wants to spend time with them again?

“It’s not an immediate change, Weiren. If you are interested in seeing what alcohol is like for you, you can drink as little or as much as you like, as slowly or quickly as you are comfortable with,” Vicouryn says, “or not at all, if you do not wish to. It is merely an option, not a requirement. Besides, I’ve seen you in plenty of varying states, and I wouldn’t mind seeing you inebriated as well. Something tells me it will be quite appealing.”

Weiren blushes again, harder this time at how she describes them. Varying states, she says, and the image of them staring up at her, breathless and tingly comes to mind. She’s the one who puts them into those states in the first place.

“What about you? What are you like?” They ask, turning the conversation to her. She folds a leg over the other and swirls a goblet in her hand, though she doesn’t take a sip.

“About the same,” she says dismissively, “I never allow myself to get overly drunk, only mildly, and it doesn’t change much for me.

For some reason Weiren thinks she’s just trying to hold herself high with those words.

“Besides, a vampire does not get drunk so easily. They need to drink the blood of one who is inebriated in order to become inebriated themselves,” she adds, waving her hand. Weiren blinks in surprise.

“You can’t get drunk on your own?” They ask. That sounds quite inconvenient.

“Do not take this as any obligation for you to drink on my behalf,” Vicouryn returns quickly with narrowed eyes, “You should only partake of your own desire.”

Well, that’s _true_ but this is something else that sounds like only Weiren can give to the queen. And the prospect of another draining is pretty enticing; how will _that_ feel once they’ve drank some wine?

“So we would both be drunk, eventually,” Weiren infers, and the queen nods, though still with the sharp look in her eye. Her concern over making sure she isn’t forcing them to do anything is sweet in a way that Weiren quite likes.

“Ideally we would have a conversation before you are too far gone,” Vicouryn says, “I would like to learn more about you since it seems like we will be spending quite a lot of time together.”

She’s interested in knowing more about Weiren? They look down at their hands for a moment. She’s also right, though, that they don’t have to drink that much. Maybe just a bit to see how they feel and how they react to alcohol. Either way, knowing what kind of drunk they are will be useful for the future.

And, they can’t lie, they’re quite interested to know the effects it will have if they end up getting close to her again.

“If we are to do this, there will need to be some ground rules set,” Vicouryn says, noting how Weiren seems to be considering this, “As you cannot give proper consent while under the influence, we should lay down our expectations prior to drinking.”

Oh, that makes sense.

“I’ll probably be fine with anything,” Weiren says, a slight shrug in their shoulders. Vicouryn gives them a withering look, and they feel more heat rise to their cheeks. “What? Everything we did last time, at least!”

“You make yourself too desirable like this,” she says, shaking her head, and Weiren’s eyes go wide again. _Desirable!?_ Them?! That’s crazy. After a second, she sighs. “So we will use last night as a baseline. Nothing farther than that, then.”

That sounds pretty good to them. Besides, they probably won’t even drink that much; they’ll probably retain most of their control over themself. 

Vicouryn sighs again as Weiren nods, sliding the full goblet towards them on the small table to the side. Weiren takes it tentatively, watching as Vicouryn pours herself a cup, but not nearly as full as theirs. Maybe for the taste? Then she takes the pitcher and fills a glass with clear water, also setting it down closer to Weiren.

“Alcohol dehydrates, so drink plenty of water if it is too much,” she says simply, and then raises her wine glass, as if toasting. Weiren hurries to grab theirs and holds it up, too. “To our newly knighted Waywatcher paladin,” she says, fixing them with a solid stare. 

“To Queen Vicouryn,” Weiren says back, holding the gaze despite their nervousness mounting. She’s toasting to them, and they certainly want to toast to her, too. There’s a crinkle of amusement under her eye, and the two move to take a sip from their respective glasses.

_Oough._

Weiren makes a face as they taste the dark red liquid; certainly it is not a pleasant flavor to one who is not used to drinking alcohol. It’s pretty bitter, and there’s a gentle burn down their throat.

“It _is_ an acquired taste,” Vicouryn says as she continues to swirl her own cup. Weiren coughs as they set their goblet down, reaching for some water to help wash the taste away.

“It must be,” Weiren says, frowning at the cup. They have to drink _that_ in order to experience inebriation? They can tolerate it, probably, but damn.

“Hmm,” Vicouryn muses, staring at them, “perhaps there is a better way to make the drinking less unpleasant.”

“Really? Like adding lemon or something?” Weiren asks, thinking back to fancy drinks they’ve seen.

“I will show you,” she answers, and stands. She gestures for them to recline just a bit and make some space on the chaise lounge, and Weiren shuffles over, leaning against the back support as Vicouryn takes a seat in front of them. The vampire raises her goblet to her lips and takes a long, slow sip, eyes deliberately trained on Weiren, but they don’t see her swallow or anything. Then, she sets the glass down and turns her body more directly towards them, reaching a hand out to Weiren’s face. Her fingers gently take a hold of their chin, and she comes closer.

_Oh!_

Weiren’s breath quickens as they realize what she’s planning, and they close their eyes, tilting their head to the side just a bit.

Vicouryn leans over them and presses her closed lips to theirs. Weiren opens theirs, wondering curiously how this will feel. It seems like it has the potential to be very messy, but they want to know.

Again, they taste the tart liquid on their tongue as Vicouryn carefully lets the wine move from her to them, letting them drink while focused on the sensations of kissing. Their mouth fills quickly, and Weiren swallows, trying to avoid spilling anything, but a small trail streams out of the corner of their mouth, dribbling down their neck. Vicouryn seems to have finished her part, and she breaks away from their mouth. Instead, she leans down further to press her tongue to the skin of their neck, catching the spillage by licking up as deliberately as possible, prompting a vocal inhale from the paladin until she makes her way back to their mouth, sealing off their voice with a deep kiss. She tastes just like the wine, and certainly it makes it more bearable.

At this point Weiren’s bright red, from the assertive kiss, the wine transfer, and the intimate sensations on their sensitive neck. Just this alone is enough to fluster them, blood flowing to their face and their breath quickening.

“We shouldn’t waste any,” she says, leaning back with a small smirk as she takes in Weiren’s expression, “It is expensive, after all. But if you do want my assistance in finishing your first glass of wine, this option is available.”

“It doesn’t leave much room for talking, though, does it?” They say, wiping at their mouth. Weiren pulls their knees up, looking down to calm themself and giving Vicouryn more space to back up and rest against the back support of the chaise lounge, which she does.

“I suppose not,” she returns, reaching down to pick up her cup again, “perhaps that can just be a preview for what will come later.”

“Right,” Weiren says, shaking their head to clear the blood in their face, trying not to think of what will be coming later, “so what did you want to know? Do I get to ask questions, too?”

“You may, though I will warn you I may not answer all of them,” Vicouryn returns, “Depending on the subject. Why don’t you tell me how you came to be a part of this… Crystal Concord?”

***

Weiren goes through the first glass of wine pretty quickly while telling Vicouryn how they came to meet the other three members of the Concord. The queen, yet again, proves to be a pretty good listener, sipping at her own wine even if it doesn’t really do much for her other than taste… good? Weiren doesn’t know exactly. They’re on their second cup, maybe about thirty minutes into the meeting with Vicouryn when they start to become aware of a slight warmth in their body. Weiren blinks, looking left and right and noticing a slight delay in their ability to fully process the information in their sight. It feels like there’s a sway in their vision.

“I think it’s beginning to affect me,” Weiren notes, pausing their story.

“How do you feel?” Vicouryn asks, turning to them and resting a gentle hand on their knee. Somehow their positions have adjusted just a bit so that Vicouryn’s legs pass under Weiren’s bent ones.

“Fine, I think,” The paladin answers, blinking at Vicouryn as they tilt their head side to side, “I think I feel relaxed? Everything is just a little bit fuzzy.”

“That is good,” Vicouryn returns, nodding, and still completely sober, “Is this enough, or do you want to go further?”

“Maybe a little more,” Weiren says, a small mischievous smile forming on their face, “You know, I can actually neutralize alcohol if it gets too much.” The paladin laughs a bit, “Dormin got _so_ drunk last night I had to help him out just to make sure he didn’t pass out.”

Somehow Weiren feels like their words are coming faster, slipping through their usual thoughts and filters with the help of alcohol. Normally they’re a bit more careful with what they say. It feels a little dangerous, but a little fun. They don’t feel violent or angry or destructive or anything like that, just safely testing their reactions to alcohol with someone they like a lot. They feel loose, relaxed, and a little bit playful.

“What a useful ability,” Vicouryn intones with her own head tilt, and Weiren laughs again, reaching to put their own hands on top of the vampire’s, eyes closed as they smile briefly.

“What else do you want to know?” Weiren asks, opening their eyes and gazing up at Vicouryn expectantly. It’s a sight they never really get tired of, after all. Her pale, pointed face manages to remain stoic so frequently, but it’s quite fun to see what kinds of reactions they can get. Her eyes especially are dark and mysterious, so dark that they’re nearly black until she lets slip a bit of her vampiric power, and then they can glint reddish orange, a beautiful amber color that Weiren thinks is very attractive. “I can probably tell you anything.”

“Tell me about your life before this,” Vicouryn says, “before adventuring or worshipping the divine.”

“Before this?” Weiren repeats, pressing their lips together as they look up to the ceiling in a thoughtful manner, their motions exaggerated under the influence of alcohol, “I mean before this, I was practically nothing. Poor, dirty, weak. At most I must have been an eyesore to everyone else in the city.”

The memories come and go, but they’re not quite as painful in their current state. Besides, they’re not nothing anymore, and they have someone like Vicouryn to talk to.

“I’m sure I would have died on the streets if not for Celaste Moren,” Weiren says, pressing a hand to their cheek as they mull it over, “there’s really not much before I became a paladin.” They reach down to their goblet and finish it off, downing the rest of the wine in one motion.

“What of your family?” Vicouryn asks, a slight crease in her brow as Weiren carefully pours themself another glassful. If they focus, it isn’t too hard to do it cleanly. Besides, three should be fine, right? That seems like a good stopping point.

Oh, right, she asked another question. Weiren’s brain takes a second to process her words, head swaying more as they think. The wine must be sinking in faster, because their head is getting just a bit foggier.

“I didn’t have much of one,” they say, leaning back to rest their head on the cushioned back of the chaise lounge. Their hands go up, gesturing as they talk, somehow letting their history spill without a second thought. “Gone or dead. I was alone for some time, you know, like a street urchin or whatever. Like I said, practically nothing. Someone from the temple found me, eventually.”

They avoid looking at Vicouryn for some reason, not sure how much they want to see her reaction to the things they’re saying. The alcohol is making it easier for them to tell her these things but something inside of them still seems to ache. Deep down they think they fear her pity.

“Anyway it’s all in the past now,” Weiren quickly appends, “no big deal. I found other people and I found the temple, so everything was okay.”

As if to solidify the point, Weiren takes a big sip of wine, now used to the taste enough to just grit their teeth and bear it, not really noticing how the queen’s eye sharpens.

“I am curious,” Vicouryn says, “As to the reason why you left the temple in first place. You’ve talked of Vangath and of meeting your Concord, but not of what occurred in between those times. And now, your country is even at war with us. With _me_.”

Weiren’s gaze shifts even farther away as a weight tugs at their heart. They’re not sure how best to phrase what happened.

That’s a lie, actually. They know exactly what happened: they _ran_.

But is there any harm in telling her?

“You talked of corruption and death running in the Vangath leadership,” Vicouryn says in their silence, “I can only assume it is related. I _am_ interested in knowing, but you are not obligated to tell me.”

Weiren bites their lip as their eyes close. They hadn’t even done anything _wrong_ , and yet they’d been chased away. They already told Lynne and Dormin what occurred, out of necessity, but recalling the events still hurts. 

“Yes,” they finally whisper, “the head priest of my temple. I _knew_ he was doing something bad. I tried to figure out what was going on, but somehow he noticed.” Hopefully succinct enough to stop their brain from thinking too hard about it. They think tears might start welling up if they dwell too much on it.

“The priests hold much power in Vangath,” Vicouryn states, “I can only imagine what threat he might have to you.”

“I had to leave.” Weiren grips the cushion beneath them, trying to will their emotions away. “I ran.” Vangath was all they’d known, and one small misstep forced them out into the wilds. The head priest would have had them killed or taken care of, otherwise. They _know_ there was nothing else they could have done, but still the word _coward_ floats in the corners of their mind.

“A good thing,” the queen says after a brief pause, drawing their gaze with brief surprise, “Had you not left and joined the Concord, I imagine I might have fallen prey to Varis’ treachery. At the very least, I hope you have found Doluum to be far less unsavory.”

They stare, not expecting that sentiment. It was a good thing that they fled? It’s never been framed like that, before.

But it’s true… Weiren played a very large part in keeping Queen Vicouryn alive. A warmth settles in their chest as they hold Vicouryn’s words in their mind.

“Thank you,” they say softly, looking down at their hands, “I _have_ liked Doluum quite a bit, barring, well, the whole Lord Varis thing. And, you know, all the other crazy things that happened.”

Like a ring of stones connecting them to Ana Arkova, a scion falling from the sky, a princess sneaking out of her kingdom with their party, a dangerous escape from the Brauven Empire the  _ first  _ time, and wandering down the dark passages connecting the Markers for days. So many things have happened.

“I am glad to hear it,” Vicouryn returns with a slight smile, and Weiren lets out a laugh. All this talk about them, when a mysterious vampiric  _ queen _ is right there! She must have centuries of history.

“Speaking of Doluum, let’s talk about you~.”

Oh, my. Weiren barely registers that it’s probably out of character for them to drag a word out like that, and they giggle. Sneaking another look at Vicouryn shows her usual expression, except there looks to be a bit of concern and now she’s reaching out towards them. No, wait, she’s reaching towards their cup.

“Hey!” Weiren exclaims, pulling their goblet closer to their chest, “This was gonna be my last one, for real!”

“You seem to be a lightweight, Weiren. I doubt the second cup has even fully set in, yet,” Vicouryn tells them, and they frown, still holding their cup away from her.

“No, I’m fine,” they protest, sticking out their tongue, “besides, I have you here to protect me, right?” Weiren gives Vicouryn a little wink, as least they think they do, but they can’t really be sure. “Just let me finish this one, then you can drink _all_ the blood you want and get drunk like me!”

“I should have stopped you from pouring that third one,” she says, leaning even more to try and get their goblet, but Weiren doesn’t want to give it up, holding it out of her reach while trying to avoid spilling it. Vicouryn looks as if she has a slight tinge to her cheeks, but she hasn’t even been getting drunk for real. How strange.

“If you tell me you like me then I’ll put it down,” Weiren singsongs, all inhibitions seemingly flying out the window. Certainly there won’t be any consequences to what’s happening right now.

“Weiren, hand it over,” Vicouryn says darkly, but Weiren shakes their head. Somewhere a tiny voice tells them that normally they would have a greater reaction to her intimidation, but they ignore that.

“No, come on, please,” Weiren whines, “it’s the last one, okay, I swear. Just this last cup?” They look at her with wide eyes, holding the glass with both hands.

“You will regret this come morning. I will tell you everything you’ve said and done,” the queen warns.

“That’s a problem for future me!” Weiren says, “I don’t care. Besides, doesn’t this mean you’ll be able to get drunk more easily?”

Vicouryn sighs and presses a frustrated hand to her face as Weiren continues to hold the cup out of her reach, and they take that for victory. With a triumphant smirk, the paladin goes to down the entire goblet as quickly as they can.

“Next time I will be stopping you after the second,” she says, slowly.

“There’s going to be a next time?” Weiren asks, nearly dropping their now-empty cup on the table. They manage to scrape together enough focus to place it carefully down without breaking it. Vicouryn shakes her head, pushing Weiren’s legs off of her and standing up. She puts everything back onto the tray, leaving the pitcher and a glass of water on the table, and moves the rest of the alcohol to the other side of the room. Weiren watches as she goes, head tilted as her figure splits into two silhouettes. Oh, that might be a sign of too much alcohol. Maybe they should be trying a little harder to remain in control of their facilities.

“Maybe,” Vicouryn answers as she walks back towards them, “I suppose if you’re already this inebriated then it is time.”

Weiren pulls themself up to standing, except they stumble just a bit. 

“Yes, take my blood,” they say, nodding, “Cause it tastes so good, right?”

Vicouryn doesn’t answer, except she might be rolling her eyes. She reaches for their elbow and leads them towards the bed, her grip firm and helping them keep steady.

“When’s the last time you got drunk, anyway?” Weiren asks as the queen sits them down on the edge of the bed.

“A long time ago,” Vicouryn answers, sitting down beside them and holding onto their shoulders. 

“Oh wait, hold on,” Weiren says, holding up a finger, “I gotta… I gotta undo this.” They reach clumsily towards their buttons, and have to really squint and focus to unfasten them.

“I can do this for you,” The queen points out as she pulls their hands down, “I am still sober, after all.”

“Not for long,” Weiren retorts, but gives up on undoing their buttons by themself, “Hey, when you actually bite me though, could you like, do it from behind? I’ve always thought that would feel pretty good.”

“You’ve been thinking about being bit from behind,” Vicouryn repeats, practically deadpan, but Weiren isn’t dissuaded by it.

“Yes, like,” they say, pulling all their hair to rest on the front of their right shoulder, “I can just turn around, right?”

“Sure…” Vicouryn answers, some kind of emotion in her tone that Weiren can’t really decipher, and when they glance down they can see her lower their shirt collar, baring their shoulders. 

“Okay, I am turning around now,” Weiren announces, shifting in their spot to face their back to Vicouryn, “I’m ready- _ah!”_

A sound that really can only be described as a moan escapes their mouth as Vicouryn grips their shoulders and bites down into the soft flesh of their neck. After the initial pain, they exhale, focusing on the familiar sensation of draining. It’s a little surprising considering how little build-up there was. A few gulps in and one of Vicouryn’s hands reaches around them to their face, fingers gripping their chin. Weiren lets their eyes close, breathing in time to Vicouryn’s swallows of their drunk blood. They wonder what she will be like under the influence, too.

She keeps drinking for a bit, and Weiren leans their head to the other side to give her more room, face tilting up and their lips parting just a bit. It’s so strange; the sensation is definitely more prominent in their current state, or maybe just more pleasurable? It’s less painful, perhaps the alcohol dulls that sensation.

Finally, she withdraws, her fangs leaving their body, but like the last time, she doesn’t quite stop there, and spends the next moments kissing and licking at their blood, not allowing any bit to trickle away, and that in particular feels extra good.

“How- how are you feeling?” Weiren asks as her movements come to a stop.

“ _Quite_ good,” she answers, voice dark against their skin, “in a few minutes I’m sure I’ll be feeling like you, but not nearly as ridiculous.”

“Hey,” Weiren says, turning back to face her, “ _you_ were the one who suggested this whole thing.”

“I did,” the queen affirms, licking a bit of blood off of her lips, “And I will be remembering everything that happens so that I can tell you in the morning. You will not be so cavalier, then.”

“Pfft.” This time, Weiren rolls their eyes, “Whatever, that’ll be sober me. It’s their fault for drinking too much. I’m innocent.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Vicouryn sighs, shaking her head.

“What, you don’t like the honest me?” Weiren says, “This is just me when I’m not afraid to say whatever I’m thinking. I think. I’m not a coward anymore.”

“So much bravado, but I suppose that could be true,” Vicouryn returns, “Then what else are you finally feeling brave enough to say? If you’re feeling so honest, that is.” There’s a challenging tone to her voice.

“Let’s do what we came here to do,” they say back, “come on. Kiss me.”

Weiren watches Vicouryn’s expression change. First she was challenging them, but now it’s the other way around. Would sober Weiren ever dare say that? Drunk Weiren doesn’t think so, but also sober Weiren might just be using this alcohol as an excuse to say whatever. Are they even going to remember this? Vicouryn’s eyes darken at their words, seemingly ready to take them up on what they said. Okay, maybe there is a little bit of fear when they see that, but they aren’t backing down. What will it feel like if Vicouryn shrugs off her own control and just goes at them with raw desire? Is she even drunk enough for that to happen?

Well, they both agreed to stick to the bounds of what they’ve already done, theoretically. Hmm, maybe Weiren shouldn’t have had that third cup. Wait, but Vicouryn said she doesn’t get that drunk, so maybe she will still have an appropriate amount of self-awareness to also stop Weiren from doing anything too embarrassing.

Oh, but who really cares? They’re just going to kiss a lot, and that isn’t anything new.

Vicouryn moves closer, gaze trained on them like a predator. That signature look of hers that always seems to make their blood run cold. Or hot. Their face must be flush from the alcohol by now. They suppose it’s good to know that three glasses of wine within an hour is what gets them decently drunk, and probably in the future they should never drink more than one in public. 

Suddenly Weiren’s aware that Vicouryn is actually really, really close, which makes sense because she was close enough to bite them, but now they’re facing her and she’s got an intense look in her eyes. All of their alcohol-powered bravery falters, and they have to look away, heart thumping like crazy. Are they actually ready to act with lowered inhibitions? The room is swaying around them quite intensely. Maybe that’s the third cup sinking in.

“What, nothing left to say?” Vicouryn asks, voice quiet as she takes their face in her hands, gently shifting them to look back at her, “Where did all that courage go?” Weiren’s head is swimming with alcohol and emotion and desire but they find they’re overwhelmed.

“I-I don’t know,” they whisper, embarrassed, “Guess I’m still a coward.”

She looks at them with concern, her dark gaze giving way to a more gentle one.

“We can stop, Weiren, if you are feeling uncomfortable,” she says.

“I shouldn’t have had the third one,” Weiren says, squinting, “Everything feels so vague. I’m having trouble... focusing on your face.”

“You must be even more of a lightweight than I initially thought,” the queen returns, “But with time you should sober up a bit.”

“I’m sorry,” Weiren mumbles, letting their eyes drift down.

“There is nothing to apologize for; this is your first time drinking,” Vicouryn says firmly, somehow, despite apparently being some amount of inebriated from their blood. “It’s a learning experience for the future.”

“You kept telling me to stop and I didn’t listen,” Weiren says, trying to focus, but it is pretty hard, “I should have listened to you.” It feels like they messed up. They’d been so looking forward to this experience but they got too ahead of themself and ruined it.

“It’s best to experience your limits directly,” Vicouryn returns.

“It’s a little scary,” Weiren admits, but the sensation of the vampire’s hands on their face feels grounding, cool and firm, “I’ve never felt this before. Everything’s… moving.”

“Here,” Vicouryn says as she stands up, and Weiren follows her with their eyes as best they can as she moves to the head of the bed, patting one of the pillows. “Come. You can just rest and let some of the alcohol pass.” Vicouryn helps them shift, laying them down gently in a partially reclined position. It helps the swaying, definitely. Somehow they notice her pulling the blanket over them.

A moment later, and she’s pressing a glass of water in their hands.

“Drink,” she says simply, and Weiren takes a few gulps of the clear water. “It should help.”

“Wait,” Weiren says as she takes the glass back and sets it on the nightstand beside them, “can you come next to me?”

“I can,” the queen answers, and she makes her way to the other side, sitting gingerly on the edge and still keeping her distance.

“I’m probably too drunk to do much,” Weiren says, looking across the bed at her longingly, “but could you… hold me?” Their voice falters at the last few words, but thankfully Vicouryn seems to hear them, and she shifts closer, reaching an arm behind them and letting their head rest on her chest.

“How is this?” Vicouryn asks as Weiren turns to curl against her a bit, eyes closing.

“Mm, good,” they say softly, “I feel so safe around you.”

“Safe,” the queen echoes, and Weiren nods against her to affirm the sentiment.

“I’m going to be. Sooo... embarrassed when I’m sober,” Weiren sighs, “Thanks for dealing with me and my stupidity.”

“Of course. I enjoy your companionship greatly and I appreciate your trust in me to witness this experience of yours,” Vicouryn says against them.

“I wasn’t lying when I said the wine was making me more… honest… though,” Weiren continues, “You should… take this opportunity… to ask more questions.” Their words are slowing down as the alcohol depresses their system further. Weiren wonders if perhaps they should go get their holy symbol and just purge the poison from their body, but also they’re feeling quite comfortable in this position. Despite drinking too much from the get go, the alcohol does feel like it’s making it a lot easier to open up. Even if there may be consequences to the things they say, they feel like they _want_ to say these things to her. They want her to know.

“When your inhibitions are lowered, it is easy for things to slip out,” Vicouryn says, nodding, “like how it’s a shame you can’t come back to Mevaden with me.”

“What?” Weiren isn’t sure what they heard.

“When your inhibitions are lowered, it’s easy for things to slip out,” the queen repeats.

“Oh, right.” That’s certainly proven to be true so far. “There’s just… lots of things I want to say… but I don’t think I’ll be brave enough to say them when I’m sober.”

“Such as?”

“After this mess… will you still want to kiss me?” Weiren asks, turning to hide their face. There’s a pause.

“I don’t see why not,” Vicouryn answers. Oh, thank the gods. Some tension leaves their body as this.

“I like spending time with you,” Weiren continues, reaching their own arm around her waist. “You won’t forget about me, will you? When we leave Gedal.”

“Of course not,” Vicouryn says, and she begins to run her free hand through Weiren’s hair in a familiar, calming gesture.

“You know, we should do… a lot more kissing in the morning to make up for this,” Weiren keeps going, mouth moving before they can even think about what they’re going to say. Now that they’re stationary and grounded by Vicouryn they can focus on just saying things.

“That can be done,” Vicouryn returns.

“You should, umm… you should pin me down again, too,” Weiren says next, blissfully oblivious to Vicouryn’s facial reactions, just letting the words come out and maybe they’ll deal with whatever consequences come with them later. Or Vicouryn will just forget they said anything. Whatever happens, Weiren is simply just looking away from her, their own face pressed comfortably against her cold form. “I liked that.”

“Really, now,” the queen says after another long pause, and it feels as if she might be shaking her head.

“Yes, really,” Weiren says, nodding sleepily, “I like when you’re in control. Holding me. Feels… safe.”

Weiren wonders if they'll remember saying these things when they finally sober up properly, because they think their sober self might have a few words to say to their current, drunk self if they knew what they were telling Vicouryn right now.

“I will keep this in mind, Weiren. For now, rest,” Vicouryn finally says, “We can talk more after that.”

“Thank… thank you…” they whisper softly before quieting, lost in a delirious state. They don’t quite fall asleep, but they do fall into a bit of a fitful trance.

***

When Weiren comes back to full consciousness, they still aren’t fully sober. There’s a bit of fuzziness in their head and a dryness in their mouth, except it’s way less overwhelming than it was before.

Opening their eyes reveals some kind of a book held open with a single pale hand, and Weiren looks up to see that Vicouryn is awake. Makes sense; they don’t think they’ve ever seen her asleep. She must have been passing the time by reading.

“Mm,” they hum as they blink a bit, “how long has it been?”

“I did not expect you to wake so soon. It has been around an hour; hopefully at least some of the alcohol has worked its way through your system by now. How are you feeling?” Vicouryn sets the book down on her other side and looks down at Weiren, who tries to sit up. The vampire helps them, and they reach for the water on the side.

“A bit better… I’m an elf,” Weiren says plaintively, “And a paladin. Maybe that helps it pass quicker? I don’t think I was fully asleep anyway.”

She looks at them with an amused glance.

“Perhaps.”

“Are you still feeling drunk at all?” Weiren asks, finishing off the water, which feels good to drink, “I think I’m still feeling some effects.” It feels similar to how they felt after finishing their first glass of wine, except they’re a bit more groggy?

“Only a bit,” Vicouryn answers.

“We… I guess the night after tonight, if you want, we should try again,” Weiren suggests, setting the glass down and returning to their previous position, snuggling back against Vicouryn, “I’ll go slower, now that I know what I can handle.”

“I suppose that can be arranged. I will make sure not to let these events be repeated, though you certainly said several interesting things while you were more inebriated,” Vicouryn says back, her hands moving to gently stroke down their face and hair, making them sigh softly.

“I kind of remember? Not sure, tell me when I’m fully sober,” Weiren says, blushing but they’re probably still red just from alcohol, “Confront them instead of me. Maybe since I’m still just a little drunk, though, we could uh…”

The paladin shyly sits up again, reaching out to place their hands on and around Vicouryn’s shoulders, gazing up into her eyes.

“I’m sure it will be better next time, but as long as I’m still… under the influence… I do still want to….” They trail off, tilting their head as they stare at Vicouryn’s lips. That pair of lips has been all over theirs and their upper body.

“While that is a very tempting idea,” Vicouryn says, patting Weiren’s head and shaking her own, “I think it’s better that you learn from what has happened tonight and keep resting up.”

“W-what…?” Weiren is aghast, “But you said in the morning-”

“It is not morning yet,” Vicouryn returns, “When that time comes we will see how you feel especially once you’ve heard all the things you’ve said. I believe it is only around one at the moment, so let us give it a few more hours.”

Weiren frowns.

“Think of it as retribution,” Vicouryn says with a small smirk, “for not stopping when I told you to.”

Weiren puts their face in their hands, ashamed.

“I said I was sorry,” they say, “I didn’t mean to ruin tonight.”

“Listen, Weiren. You did not _ruin_ anything. I have had an enjoyable time despite your overeagerness and we are still spending time together, are we not? I simply think you should have a chance to reflect on what’s occurred before going ahead.” There’s a firmness in her voice as she pulls them back into her arms. “You were inebriated to a level I would feel uncomfortable doing what we normally do, especially considering how it was your first time drinking.”

Weiren listens, letting the words sink in. The sentiment makes sense, they guess, but it is still hard to feel like they didn’t mess up.

“Okay,” they say quietly, letting themself be held.

“Besides,” Vicouryn continues, “We don’t normally have a chance to just talk. There is more to companionship than just touch.”

“I’ve said so many things, though, and probably all of them are embarrassing,” Weiren says, trying not to think of what they said.

“I’ve enjoyed greatly what you’ve said,” Vicouryn says with amusement in her voice, “And I would be interested in hearing more.”

“What… exactly do you want to hear more about?” Weiren asks curiously.

“You’ve told me a bit about your past. What about things you like?”

They take a second to think back.

“I like plants. If I wasn’t a paladin, I’d probably still be a gardener. I was a gardener at the temple before I was a paladin,” Weiren says the first thing they can think of, “I could be your gardener in Mevaden, to your manor. I wish I’d had the chance to walk through those…”

“I suppose it isn’t surprising that you like nature, from what I’ve seen of your abilities. But you’d want to be _my_ gardener? Back in Mevaden?” Vicouryn sounds contemplative, “I think you deserve more than just crawling around in the dirt.”

“It’s not so bad,” Weiren protests, “to be able to take care of plants. Fostering growth and life… it’s nice.”

“Hm.” Vicouryn doesn’t sound particularly convinced.

“I don’t really have any other skills,” The paladin confesses, “I’m an amateur with the lyre and I like to read. Not sure what else I could do for a living other than fight or garden.”

“In this hypothetical scenario where you came to Mevaden, _I_ would make certain you would be treated with the highest respect. You would have access to luxury and many of the finer things in life. Perhaps you could assist the royal librarian. I could find you a teacher if you wanted to pursue music further. If you really desired it, you could have your own personal garden,” Vicouryn says, clearly thinking of things Weiren would never really be comfortable with, except this all sounds like she’s placing them at a much higher value than what they’re actually worth. She wouldn’t actually do these things, would she? Maybe the alcohol is just making her say things she doesn’t actually mean.

“That sounds like an impossible dream,” Weiren laughs, “I don’t think I belong in any level of luxury. I’m more comfortable without it, but I suppose it would be nice to be able to pursue different skills.”

“It may sound impossible, but I very well have the power to make it happen,” Vicouryn returns, sounding a bit too serious for Weiren’s taste.

“No- I…” Weiren says, flustered, “I mean. It’s all hypothetical, right? I’m a knight now and I have to- I have to serve Doluum and fight the war… I need to break whatever connection I have with Arkova… It wouldn’t be safe.”

There’s an uncomfortably long pause.

“Right,” Vicouryn says, no hint of any emotion in her now perfectly-controlled voice, “I was not being serious. We have other matters to attend to.”

Weiren’s a little terrified at the prospect of Vicouryn actually liking their companionship so much that she would suggest and do these things. That can’t be real, can it? Surely she only likes them enough to share physical intimacy and nothing more?

“I do think I’d like being able to meet with you so easily, though,” Weiren admits, “I don’t even want to think about how long it’ll be before we see each other again after we leave Gedal.”

“We will meet again, I am sure,” Vicouryn says, resting a hand on Weiren’s cheek, which they lean into automatically, “And I believe we still have several more days here. We will make the most of it.”

***

It takes time and more rest before Weiren’s head feels clear, and it’s just about an hour or so before dawn that they come out of another trance feeling back to normal. They’re incredibly comfortable, all wrapped up in Vicouryn’s arms and tucked into her bed.

Her bed. 

Right, they were drinking, and planning to kiss a lot, right? But that’s not quite what happened, was it? Certainly they weren’t crazy blackout drunk, but some of the memories are a little vague.

Weiren takes stock of the situation. Their shirt is half open, but otherwise they aren’t really exposed any more than usual. Vicouryn is still wearing one of her black gowns, so they can assume that they didn’t go too far in terms of any physicality.

Rather, they realize as they recall a few things, they went too far verbally.

Oh, no.

“Are you feeling back to normal?” A voice says above them, and Weiren gulps, slowly looking up to see an incredibly amused expression on Vicouryn’s face.

“Y-yeah,” Weiren says, wincing.

“Why don’t I get you some more water, and then perhaps we can discuss what happened?” The queen suggests, a scary but small smile playing on her lips.

“O...okay…” Weiren says back, slowly extracting themself from the vampire to turn away and stare regretfully at the wall. Gods. There’s a chuckle as Vicouryn pulls away and gets out of the bed, retrieving the water pitcher to pour a glass for Weiren.

“Now, I did say that I would tell you the things you said and did while inebriated,” she warns, handing the cup to them, “So that you might be a bit more careful in the future.”

“You sure did, huh…” Weiren says under their breath, taking the glass to drink as they try to recount the events, and they can remember that part easily enough.

“I learned that you are interested in being drained from behind,” she says simply, sitting down at the edge of the bed. Weiren takes another sip to avoid having to say anything back. “You professed quite a desire to keep seeing me, as well. Though, more specifically,” she says, pausing and giving Weiren a direct look, “You did say you like to be under my control, despite claiming back in Mevaden that you aren’t so easily controlled.”

Weiren coughs mid-swallow, sputtering. Oh, fuck, did they really? They look away, still coughing as they wipe at the water on their mouth. Uh oh… Maybe they can hold their ground against charm but people aren’t supposed to know how appealing the idea of losing control is to them, not having to worry about things.

“You seemed quite worried that I might cut you off after last night’s events, though I assure you I have no intentions of doing so. How best to put this…” Vicouryn muses, watching the paladin squirm nervously, “You were quite sad at the prospect that I might not touch you again. You thought you had disappointed me.”

At this point Weiren is certain she is just tormenting them to get back at them for downing that third drink. They stare down at the water, resigning themself to just having to listen to whatever Vicouryn wants to say.

“I’m curious to know exactly how you feel about our relationship,” She finally says, “For it seems you value it more than just a business arrangement.”

Weiren turns even redder. Isn’t everything they said while drunk enough for Vicouryn to infer what she’s asking? Besides, she’s the one who was talking about bringing Weiren back to Mevaden despite everything else happening.

The queen turns to them, still watching. She comes closer, still with that unfair stoic expression. Slowly, she reaches out, taking the cup of water from their hands and setting it aside, but Weiren’s still unable to meet her gaze, emotions and adrenaline roiling under their skin. If they’d just kept to their abstinence from alcohol, this wouldn’t be happening. She climbs further onto the bed, clearly moving to put herself above them, but Weiren finds they can’t bring themself to shy away from it. It feels natural to be under her.

Vicouryn’s hands find theirs as she leans over them, gently pushing them down, but this time she isn’t holding onto their wrists. Her fingers interlock with theirs as their head hits the pillow. How unfair for her to tease them with touch while she lays out all of their confessions bare before them at the same time!

“Look at me,” she says above them, and they do, cheeks ablaze as they’re somehow forced into an even more vulnerable state than before. “Tell me, Weiren. How exactly do you feel about this? How do you feel about what I do to you?”

She ducks her head down, pressing a soft kiss to their collarbone, prompting a hitched breath.

“It’s- it’s important to me,” Weiren gasps.

“You did say we should make up for last night with lots of touch,” Vicouryn whispers against their skin, “So I will not disappoint. But tell me more. _How_ important is this to you?”

The paladin is feeling incredibly conflicted. Of course they _always_ want to have her touch, but she’s asking them such targeted questions while they’re already mentally thrown-off by what occurred just several hours ago. They aren’t sure what to say or do, but her motions feel so good and they’re terrified if they don’t reply to her that she’ll stop.

That’s why it feels so unfair, they realize. She knows how much they crave physical touch and is using it to tease them.

“What about you, then?” Weiren says back bravely, “How important is it to you that you have to hear my answer so bad?”

Vicouryn lifts her head again to look directly at the paladin trapped underneath her, eyes slightly narrowed. Weiren gulps.

“Enough that I ask,” she returns, challenging them with a dark look that sends both fear and a thrill through then, “I want to know how much I affect you if you’re confessing that you desire me to hold you down. How much do you think about these things when I’m not around? How much do you think about _me?_ How often are you out with your Concord, doing whatever else, with nothing but me on your mind?”

Weiren falls silent, trying to figure out what to say back in this situation. Certainly she occupies quite a large space in their mind, but they don’t want to fall completely at her mercy so soon. Okay, well, they do, but they want to play at this game without giving up entirely. She is being unfair, and they know it.

“Enough that _I_ ask,” Weiren retorts, “I think about it enough to ask you to do these things to me. Isn’t that enough for you?”

Vicouryn looks at them, calculating, her face pale and stoic in contrast to Weiren’s flushed and stubborn one, and then she simply laughs, the stone mask fading away just a bit to show her amusement.

“I suppose it is,” she says with a small smile, and Weiren sighs in relief, though they wonder what could have happened if they hadn’t pushed back and just submitted completely to her. 

“To be fair, though, I do think about this a lot,” Weiren quickly appends now that Vicouryn’s eased up on her predatory motions.

“I know,” she says, “Again, you did ask me to pin you down, and that says quite a bit.”

Weiren presses their lips together and glances away. Drunk them really just let it all out, huh?

“Yea…”

“It is fortunate, however, because I do quite like it as well,” she says, leaning back down to whisper beside their ear, “Having you under my control, that is. I am happy to oblige.”

Weiren feels chills run down their spine at this. Well, that’s certainly good news, right?

“I… I said that it made me feel safe, right?” They ask tentatively, and Vicouryn nods. “It is a little intimidating at times, but it’s true. I know that you could easily overpower me but you are always so considerate. You make me feel safe. Secure. I trust you.”

“I’m honored,” Vicouryn returns, “I trust you as well.”

That sounds nice. Weiren gives her a little smile.

“Alright, well,” they say, “now that that’s out of the way you can go back to being scary and in control,” they cough, glancing briefly to the side.

Vicouryn laughs again, and it makes their heart soar.

“Certainly,” she says, “If you are ready to proceed. You may end up with a few more marks after this.”

“Oh yes, sure,” Weiren says, nodding nervously, “That’s great, as much as you want. Just uh, as long as they’re discreet.”

“This is good. You have no idea what I held myself back from while you were blissfully inebriated and talking so loosely about your desires,” Vicouryn answers, and there’s a dark emotion in her eyes that returns.

Oh, gods. What else did they even say? What was she even thinking of?

They don’t have the power to think on it before the vampire queen resumes, starting back at their collarbone and making her way up their neck, deliberately avoiding Weiren’s mouth for the beginning. She goes very slowly, intent on making this last for however long she desires, maybe long enough to drive her knight crazy.

“I wonder if anyone else has ever seen you like this,” she murmurs against their throat, “or if the honor is entirely mine.”

“Just you,” Weiren says breathily, relaxing and tensing their fingers in Vicouryn’s grasp. This kind of hold is more intimate than the previous ones, and they wonder how long they can stay in it.

“Good,” she returns, the slightest hint of a growl in her tone, “I certainly hope it remains that way. I have been curious to know, though, if you have had any experiences along these lines before this. I know you say you do not have much, but anything at all?”

Weiren’s not sure if the queen is implying that she doesn’t want them to be intimate with anyone else, because that would mean she’s expressing possessiveness? Though, they guess they find the prospect of Vicouryn being intimate with someone else a little painful, too, so maybe it’s not too unrealistic that she feels that way?

“Not really,” Weiren answers, tilting their head one way to give Vicouryn a better angle to keep touching them, “The most I ever had was one kiss,” they confess, “that I initiated. You-” there’s a second as they have to gasp again as the queen very gently mouths their ear, “You were the first one to kiss me.”

“An action I will repeat as long as you desire,” Vicouryn says, pressing a tender kiss to their cheek to show it. Gods, it’s so wonderful.

“I’m very grateful for that,” Weiren says, “and for everything else.”

“Everything?” Vicouryn repeats, voice darkening, brushing her lips against their skin, “Even when I am not so gentle? When I am content to just torment you with my touch for as long as _I_ desire? When you are helpless under my grasp with nothing to do but endure the pleasure?”

Whoa…

Weiren realizes she’s just started to mark them again, adding to the several that already exist. Her grip on their fingers tightens as she sucks at the skin on their neck, a bit more forcefully than before. The paladin tilts their head back, squeezing their eyes shut. Are they grateful for those things, too?

“Y-yes!” They manage to say, barely, as the words float in their mind, dancing with dangerous implications. Vicouryn smirks against their neck, apparently quite satisfied with that response. How much does she care for _them_ if hearing that pleases her so much? Whether or not they can even believe it they have to consider that perhaps she, too, views them as more than just a partner for an arrangement.

Queen Vicouryn rises up from their neck, kissing up their skin hungrily until she reaches their mouth, pressing her lips against theirs in a closed kiss, at first. It is only a short while before it deepens, the vampire focusing on Weiren’s lower lip and drawing it between hers. The paladin reciprocates, showing care to Vicouryn’s upper lip with their own motions, until they switch and begin again. She’s going at it slowly, but then she changes her pace, quickening her kisses to overwhelm Weiren before slowing back down. At times she’s quick and light, barely brushing against them with short pecks, and at others she’s pressed fully against them, dragging her lips deliberately across theirs, until they have to break away to breathe.

“How fortunate that you stumbled into Mevaden the day you did,” she says as the kissing pauses, the two of them breathing heavily, “I did not realize what a gift I’d been given that day.”

She called them a gift!

“I- I don’t know if I’d call myself that,” Weiren says shyly, “but thanks?”

“So unable to accept compliments,” she tsks, “but no matter. I will simply mark you over and over until you realize your own worth.”

Weiren lets out a shuddering exhale, eyes wide at her threat that frankly is also something they quite want. It means she wants them in a way no one else ever has or ever will.

Vicouryn releases one of their hands to adjust theirhair, pushing a lock to the side and running her hand along their jaw, though they keep their hand where it is, still beside their head.

“Unfathomable that you cannot realize how desirable you truly are,” she comments, “From my perspective right now, anyone would want you.”

Weiren’s head spins from her words. What she’s saying is clashing so hard against their own perceptions of themself that they’re shaken to their core. How can this be true? But they are the words of Vicouryn, so how can they be false? Why would she lie about this?

The queen gently presses her thumb against their lip as they stare up at her, mind racing. Almost automatically their lips part and her finger grazes their teeth.

“Not that anyone else would deserve you,” she adds, looking down at them, “I would rather keep you to myself.” She leans down again to their neck, lips and tongue working their sensitive flesh over and over, sending them spiraling away, the whole while keeping a touch to their mouth, making sure not to abandon their lips. A particularly well-placed nip with her teeth makes them gasp and arch their neck, allowing Vicouryn’s thumb to slip forward just a bit more into their mouth, pressing against their lax tongue. She chuckles darkly as she sits back to assess her work, gazing down at the absolutely wanton sight of Weiren’s flushed and heated face and how they just simply allow her to keep a presence inside them. The vampire takes a moment to slide her thumb across the front of Weiren's tongue, getting a feel for it without using her own, yet again displaying how much more power she has in this position. Like the rest of her, the touch is cold, but inside the heat of their mouth it begins to warm. 

To Weiren, in this moment, Vicouryn has free and unlimited access to every part of their body. Somehow she’s enacting such a perfect control that makes them want to succumb entirely.

But how does she say such things so calmly? Weiren can barely focus on what’s happening, but her words send their mind flying, and for a moment they really are wondering about the possibility of just leaving the Concord and going to Mevaden, to stay forever with Vicouryn, if that’s what she’s implying, but that can’t really happen, can it?

“I’m-” Weiren starts, blinking as they try to gather their own words to reply, completely at Vicouryn’s mercy and honestly they don’t want to be anywhere else. As they speak, Vicouryn’s thumb retreats back to just rest on the edge of their lip, allowing them to speak properly, “I’m all yours,” they say, “As long as you want, I’m only yours.” If she wants them so much then they are happy to give themself to her, everything they are and everything they have.

They’re both saying such things and Weiren can feel words like ‘love’ and ‘romance’ dancing in the back of their brain, but neither of them have spoken those terms specifically aloud, so are they really applicable? Is the relationship entirely physical, or do they both feel something more emotional? Could a queen even foster a romantic relationship with someone like them?

They can say with certainty that they trust her, and they want to be around her, know more about her, be touched by her, but is that something they can confidently label as love? That’s too much, they think. The word comes with so many implications that they can’t apply it to this. For now they will just have to settle with want. The same doubt applies when they think of Vicouryn’s feelings towards them. Can they really even entertain the idea that she loves them? It’s just too much. They can’t wrap their mind around it. What they’ve been doing has been both of them indulging in something that they’ve both been deprived of, so really doesn’t she just desire to engage in physical intimacy with them?

“All mine?” Vicouryn echoes, tone dark and foreboding and downright pleased with what she’s just heard, “That’s a big commitment to make, Weiren,” she says, and the hand on their lip drags down, sliding down their chin, their neck, their chest until it hits the still fastened buttons of their shirt, right above their stomach. “Are you sure about that?”

They don’t have the sense to even think about the consequences of answering this question but they know she will be happy with an affirmation, and they like to see her happy.

“If you’ll have me, yes,” Weiren says, gazing up at her, nodding, and really they’ve never wanted to be anything but hers for the last month at least, right? Always wanting to give to her, always wanting to please her, it makes sense, right? “Please.”

“Then I _will_ have you,” she says with a certainty that keeps thrilling Weiren, “For as long as you desire to be mine. I hope that it is for a good, long, while.”

Vicouryn releases Weiren’s other hand, and they realize she’s actually undoing the rest of the buttons on their shirt. Oh gods, what is she planning? They sit up on their elbows, watching as a bit of anxiety flicks up through their body.

“A larger canvas for what I will leave behind,” she says, opening up the undershirt entirely, “Do not worry, we will only go as far as you decide.”

Somehow Weiren flushes more, to the point where they wonder if they might just up and faint from how much blood rushes to their head. What has even just happened? Weiren is now… Vicouryn’s? They’re… hers? Her what? Her companion? Her lover? Her secret? What are they to her? They still can’t say exactly what.

The queen runs her hands, feather light, up Weiren’s sides and chest, touching sensitive skin that has never really been touched by anyone other than themself, or by the weapons of their enemies. She must be seeing even more of their scars now. It’s delicate, and it tickles, and Weiren wants to hide their face; they’re more exposed than they ever have been before her. She presses her palms flat against them, mapping across their torso and feeling their body.

“How exquisite,” she murmurs, tracing the lines of their muscles, passing through the light layer of hair on their soft stomach, “I cannot wait to leave my marks all over.”

Ohh, gods. How many is she even planning on making?

“But I can’t neglect this, either,” she says, drawing her hand back up to Weiren’s face, touching the corner of their mouth. She pulls them back in for another kiss, and this one is quite deep. Vicouryn is both controlled and assertive, acting against and inside them in such a way that makes them weak, though they try to reciprocate as best they can. This time they reach to her face as well, sitting up enough to kiss her on level ground, but as always she is the one leading it, though there are times when she backs away and lets them take the initiative for a few moments.

Weiren goes farther, wrapping their arms around Vicouryn’s neck as she sets her hands on their bare sides, beneath the fabric of their shirt, grazing her fingernails against them. She reaches up to their back, still under the cloth in a way that puts them even closer together, Vicouryn taking _her_ Weiren and holding them close, stealing their breath with kisses and gestures that make them melt in her arms. She kisses them long and hard, until they need to breathe, and then she sets off on finding a new area to claim her territory, nearly overwhelming them with all the different sensations. They don’t know how many times she marks them but it is certainly a lot, and she spreads them out across their chest and stomach as Weiren stares down at her through their half-lidded eyes, the pleasure of her contact filling all of their senses. She takes care to make them feel as good as she can, stroking their skin with gentle fingers and running kisses on their flesh before applying the pressure of the mark. There’s even a few moments when they feel the sharpened tips of her fangs, but she does not pierce them, only gently dragging them across the areas for more sensation.

“Come back,” Weiren asks, nothing left but just pure desire for her, “Kiss me again,” they say breathily, missing her on their lips, and she rises back up to fulfill their request, reaching into their open mouth with her tongue, prompting them to gasp and meet her with their own. Somewhere back on their chest, Vicouryn rests her hand along their pectoral, brushing against even more sensitive nerves and they feel themself let out a vocal breath, but it’s swallowed by the vampire’s mouth.

Slowly, over time, her motions turn a bit more assertive as Weiren begins to tire, stamina a little drained from the alcohol of the prior night, but they want her to keep going even if they can't react as much. Her force against them pushes them back down and they let her resume her more dominant position, Vicouryn still kissing them all the while. She forsakes hovering over them for just lying across their body, her own sense of control giving way to just chasing pleasure. Weiren can feel her form against them, their legs tangling in a way they haven’t before. They reach up to her waist while she holds their face, hugging her closer as they try to feel each other even more intimately, lips and tongues against each other. Eventually though, Vicouryn slows down. At some point the two of them roll onto a side, and they look at each other in the darkness, breathing hard and worn out, but with the glow of some kind of satisfaction in both of their eyes.

Weiren is in some kind of state, a strange kind of calm and happiness mixed with drowsiness from all of their emotions and adrenaline.

“Unfortunately, it would not be a good idea to continue right now. It’s a shame, but it will be morning soon,” Vicouryn breathes, even her normally stoic voice a little worn from the events that just occurred.

Oh gods. Morning? Weiren’s exhausted brain somehow puts the pieces together that they’ll have to get up and go find the Crystal Concord and pretend they didn’t just have a night of alcohol and passion with Vicouryn, the vampiric queen of Mevaden of which the entire party is quite wary. If she wasn’t a High King of Doluum, Weiren is pretty certain that Dormin might have made a pretty severe choice against her.

Weiren leans in to bury their head in Vicouryn’s shoulder.

“I don’t want it to be morning,” they say. They feel an arm come to rest around their shoulders, Vicouryn's hand threading through their now admittedly messy hair. “I just want to stay here all day.”

“Believe me,” the vampire answers, “I as well, but there is work to be done with the war council, and I am certain that your Concord will be looking for you.”

“I wish you hadn’t suggested Mevaden,” Weiren admits, “I really want to go with you now.” They do, but the pull of their other duties is strong. Even if Mevaden itself is a bit of a scary city, the idea of living alongside Vicouryn and spending the rest of their life being cared for is so appealing, especially in comparison to having been a war prisoner and nearly dying multiple times.

It’s hard to imagine that life, though. Do they really deserve that? They’re really only known the rougher life of solitude and survival.

“Perhaps after the war is resolved, Waywatcher Weiren,” Vicouryn says, a gentler tone in her voice, reminding them of the new oath they’d sworn, “But for now we both have things we must do. I will see you again tonight. In order to avoid suspicion, you should leave soon.”

Ugh.

Vicouryn disentangles herself from Weiren and rises, letting them lie and watch her for a bit as she begins to prepare for the day. 

They wonder curiously what she might look like a little more undressed, seeing as how she quite easily opened up Weiren’s shirt without a second thought.

The paladin shakes their head and sits up. They have to get ready to go. Slowly they find the rest of their clothes and begin to redress, running a hand to remove any big knots that might have formed in their hair. A glance in the mirror sends an incredible flush on their face though, as they see the myriad of dark, reddened marks across their neck and chest before they’ve finished buttoning their shirt, and they’re pretty certain there might even be more that haven’t finished forming yet.

Every single one of those symbolizes Vicouryn’s claim on them.

Weiren quietly finishes dressing, and thankfully the outermost layer has a high enough collar to cover everything up. Most of the marks are easy to hide, but there are just a couple that not every shirt would conceal. Perhaps Lynne might have some sort of makeup to help deal with that.

Oh no.

Lynne’s the one who joked about Weiren finding a secret lover so long ago. What will she even think if they come to her about this? It isn’t like… Weiren is… _dating_ the queen or anything… they’re just… um… hers?

This will require some thought for later.

“I… guess I’ll see you later,” Weiren says, replacing their necklace back around their neck.

“You will,” Vicouryn affirms, in the process of putting on one of her long and elegant capes. Somehow she doesn’t have a hair out of place, even though Weiren feels like anyone might take a single glance at them and know everything that’s happened. Her eyes linger briefly below their head, taking in what must be the marks she’s left on them just now. 

Weiren approaches the door, nodding wistfully at the vampire, and she strides towards them.

“A parting gift,” she says, reaching out a hand. Weiren takes her hand curiously, and then she pulls them stumbling into another kiss, but this one is soft and gentle and brief. Somehow, after everything that’s occurred, this is still enough to make them blush again, prompting a small smile from Vicouryn.

“Th-thanks,” Weiren says as they part, a bit of happiness rising in their chest, countering their reluctance to leave.

“Be sure to return it the next time we meet,” Vicouryn says, and Weiren is the one who smiles this time. First the cord and the quill, and now just their touch is what will reunite them again.

“I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....... ;)


	18. Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lynne finds herself being asked for advice by multiple people, and Weiren seeks more information about Mevaden's history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i post this one early bc... im impatient....

“Is there any particular reason for the sudden interest in makeup?” Lynne asks with a furrowed brow.  _ Uhh.  _ Weiren glances around nervously.

“I just thought it might be a useful skill to know,” Weiren says, “for whenever there’s an important event and I need to look nice, or something like that.” 

That’s what they say, but really they can only think of the many, many love marks sprinkled across their torso, and there’s not a guarantee that the tunics they have right now will do a great job hiding them. Even now, wearing the coat with the highest collar they have, they don’t feel safe. Even if they have their cloak on, it fits loosely around their neck and isn’t guaranteed to cover all of their skin.

And Weiren cannot let anyone see them. They reach up to make sure the button at their neck is fastened, which it is, and has been the last three times they checked, and sigh in relief. This way it covers the entire lower half of their neck, but who knows if the button could slip out?

“Well, that is true,” Lynne says, nodding, and they’re pretty sure her eyes follow the motion of their hand, and they pretend as if they were going to scratch the back of their head instead.

Hopefully she doesn't make any assumptions? Unfortunately, though, they're pretty sure she’s smart enough to put two and two together. At the very least, perhaps she won’t be prying.

But she  _ is  _ the one with more relationship experience than anyone else in the party… maybe they should ask her for her opinion as someone with an outside perspective. How likely is it that Vicouryn could possibly harbor feelings of love or something along those lines for him?

Ha, as if they could ask Lynne  _ that. _

“So, what exactly would you need if you wanted to uh, hide blemishes or scars or something like that?” Weiren asks, very carefully avoiding the actual term of what they’re trying to hide.

“Well, you’d probably need to get one of your own and in your skin tone, but,” she says as she pulls out a case that Weiren recognizes as her disguise kit, “there’s some powders and creams you can use. They’re basically concealers.”

Where did she find purple concealer, though? That can’t be a common skin color.

“Do you keep all your makeup with your disguise stuff?” Weiren looks down at the assortment of vials and containers with an inquisitive look.

“It’s all the same,” Lynne answers, shrugging. They suppose that makes sense. Applying makeup is just a less intense version of changing your appearance, after all.

“Oh, I see,” Weiren returns, watching attentively as Lynne selects a couple of the bottles and checks their labels. For a bit there’s just the sound of clinking as she rummages through her supplies.

“I… don’t mean to pry,” she says after some silence, “but is there something in particular you’re trying to hide?”

Weiren has to fight themself from reacting, but they’re pretty sure they can’t hide it all. Lynne’s adopted a softer tone to her voice, and they get the feeling she probably knows what they really might be trying to cover, and is trying to gently prod them to open up.

“I’m asking because depending on where whatever you’re hiding is, makeup can get messed up pretty easily unless you have some of the fancier stuff. If it’s somewhere that might rub against fabric or something… this might not be the best solution for you.” Lynne puts a reassuring hand on Weiren’s shoulder as she talks. “This kind of makeup is better for the face.”

Weiren glances towards the door leading out of Lynne's room, which is still mercifully shut. They do trust Lynne to keep a secret, which she already has been, and she  _ is  _ the one with relationship experience in the group. She can probably give a clear understanding of the facts of the situation once Weiren tells her what’s happened, right? Lynne’s also better at and more accustomed to handling nobility, too.

“Lynne,” Weiren begins, sighing, “You uh… you have a lot of um… relationship experience right?”

The tiefling looks over at them as she sets some of the makeup down on the table.

“I have some, yes,” she answers.

“I was wondering if I could uh… get your perspective on a situation,” Weiren continues, avoiding eye contact and not knowing how to phrase their request.

“Does this… situation involve Queen Vicouryn?” Lynne asks quietly and gently, and Weiren keeps looking away but they can definitely feel the red rising to their face.

They nod silently.

“Well,” she says, sitting back, “I’m listening.”

Weiren gulps. Oh gods. What are they even supposed to say?

“I’ll uh, start with what I said back in Mevaden. It wasn’t… it wasn’t a lie,” They say, “We have an arrangement of sorts; it was never meant to be anything… romantic or anything like that. But it  _ is  _ escalating more than I thought it would.”

“Escalating?” Lynne repeats, and Weiren nods. They take a breath, and then reach a finger up to their collar and tug the side down just a bit, to reveal part of one of the higher love marks left on their skin. Lynne sucks in a breath as she stares. “I see.”

There’s a brief silence as Weiren puts a hand to their forehead, briefly blocking them from being able to see Lynne’s reaction, and also allowing them to cover their increasing blush for a bit. Was that the best thing to do? At the very least they don’t have to say it out loud.

“What exactly did this escalate from if the original relationship was  _ not  _ intimate?” The musician asks, breaking the silence.

Weiren has to think because they aren’t sure they’re ready to confess to Lynne that both they and Queen Vicouryn formed this relationship because both of them have been touch-deprived for some time.

“Oh, you know,” they say warily, hesitantly lowering their hand, “um… blood?”

Lynne stares at them.

“In Mevaden, you said she didn’t take your blood again, Weiren,” she says, brows drawn together.

Weiren sweats as the various bite marks on them come to mind.

“We were just… listen, the details aren’t important,” Weiren says, shaking their head, “In the beginning, we just, uh, talked. Like friendly acquaintances?”

“Mhm,” Lynne returns, giving them a concerned and skeptical look.

“Anyway!” Weiren says, exhaling, “I just, um, wanted to know uh, from your perspective. Normally when  _ this  _ happens,” they say, pointing to their neck, “doesn’t it mean that the person doing it… um... “ they trail off, unable to quite finish the sentence and imply that a  _ queen  _ could possibly harbor feelings towards them beyond just finding them useful. “I don’t quite understand what she thinks about me.”

They aren’t sure, and yet just that morning they literally just told her to take them and have them to herself forever. Weiren rubs their shoulder absently, finding the vague ache from the last vampiric bite they had.

Not only that, but she accepted that proposal from them. She accepted the prospect of  _ having  _ them, for however long either of them wanted, and she said she hoped it would be a long while. Is it because she finds their touch and their blood useful, beneficial, and valuable? Or is it possible that maybe there’s some part of her that might find them… romantically desirable? That thought seems so dangerous. Really, even if she does just find them objectively useful, they’ll be happy, because it still means she wants them around.

But imagining if she actually likes them… 

“ _ Usually  _ when people mark another in such a way,” Lynne says after a pause, “it is due to things like passion and feeling possessive. Although it  _ can  _ happen in more casual relationships, I believe it is more common in those who are already part of an established and intimate relationship.”

Feeling possessive kind of makes sense. Passion makes a bit less, when Weiren tries to think of the queen. Passion includes more emotion, which they aren’t really she has that much towards them.

An established and intimate relationship? 

“A relationship between two people who allegedly love each other,” Lynne rephrases at Weiren’s silence. They stare at her. Well, that certainly isn’t how they’d describe their arrangements with Vicouryn. Neither of them ever professed anything like that, but apparently her giving them marks is somehow akin to what Lynne described.

“You don’t think she feels that way about me, right?” Weiren says, laughing nervously, “That’s crazy.”

“I wouldn't jump to any conclusions,” Lynne answers carefully, “But perhaps she values you more than you might think.”

There’s yet another uncomfortable pause as Weiren thinks about it. Like, it makes sense in their head for her to value them because they’ve been valuable to each other. But to the point where she likes to mark them as hers? They feel like that must mean she likes them even more, but they don’t want to assume anything. 

“What about you, Weiren?” Lynne asks gently, “Are you… comfortable with what she’s done? She’s not forcing you to do anything?”

“No, no, of course not. She wouldn’t do that,” Weiren answers quickly, “I’m… not being forced to do anything. She’s been very considerate.”

“And…” she continues softly, “How do you feel about her?”

“Oh,” Weiren says with a small smile, “She’s very nice, and I like talking to her. It’s been a good change of pace to spend time with her after everything that’s happened.” The musician stares, and then sighs.

“So,” Lynne says, “If I’m hearing correctly, you have feelings for Queen Vicouryn and you want to ask me if I think she feels the same way?”

“Uh.” Weiren freezes at that summation of their request. “I don’t know if I’d say that, exactly, but um, sort of?” They can’t confidently label whatever emotion they’re having. “Not that it matters, haha, we’re leaving Gedal soon, anyway. And she’s a queen and everything…”

“Well, honestly, it’s difficult for me to figure out that woman at all. If you already are so close to her, to the point where she’s doing  _ that _ , I… feel like that’s answer enough. Though I feel like you are climbing an uphill path; like you said, she  _ is  _ a queen, not to mention her nature, and from what I’ve seen she has practically no emotion,” Lynne says.

“No, she has emotion,” Weiren protests, “She was really happy when I said-”

Oh, no. 

Weiren closes their mouth, but Lynne looks at them expectantly, and also a bit nervously.

“When you said what?” She asks. Weiren looks away and rests their head on their palm.

“That… I… um, was hers?” They bite their lip surreptitiously, averting their gaze.

“You told her that you were hers, and she was happy about it, and you are asking  _ me  _ if she likes you?” Lynne says slowly, blinking as she presses her own hand to her forehead.

“I-I think it just means physically,” Weiren says, shaking their head, “Not emotionally or anything.”

Lynne gives them a withering look.

“I’m sorry, Weiren, but I don’t think I can give you the answers you’re looking for. If you trust her, then it’s probably best if you just talk to her,” she says, “but just from what I’ve heard, it seems like you both probably harbor  _ something _ , whatever it may be, for the other.”

“I guess,” Weiren says back glumly, because they can’t possibly bring it up to Vicouryn. What if emotions ruin their current arrangement?

“At the very least, I can help you get some concealing makeup,” Lynne adds, “if you have time today.”

“Yea,” Weiren agrees, “thanks.”

Gods.

***

Vicouryn has trouble focusing on the war council, but she is in a much better mood than she normally is.

Not only did she relax last night with some nice wine, fresh blood, and the opportunity to hold someone warm, but this morning a certain paladin gave themself  _ and  _ their body to her. She did not even manipulate or try to magically charm them and yet they fell right into her grasp, willing and wanting without any trouble at all. Perhaps she did try a few unfair tricks to get them to confess how much they like her touch, but still. 

How fortunate for her that they turned out to be even more of a submissive person than she initially thought, to the point where they actively found her controlling demeanor very attractive. They seem to be even more compatible as a physical companion than previously expected. Enjoying the bite, willing to give blood, wanting to please her, uncaring of her temperature, content to let her take control over the situation and especially content to be held down, pinned so that they could not escape, not that they would want to escape.  _ Exactly  _ the kind of person she likes to control in that way.

It seems so very clear that this strong paladin wants her touch quite badly, and that perhaps she’s been occupying their mind much more than she thought. She’s been affecting them so strongly that they just handed themself over on a silver platter, to be touched and claimed and controlled by her until they’re just a breathless, flushed mess.

How  _ wonderful  _ for her. She hides her smirk behind a hand that she raises to her face in faux thoughtfulness, wondering how far she can push them. From what they said, they’ve never really done anything but they’re so open and willing to try things out that it is possible it can escalate quite far, though she would not want to scare them by going too quickly. How far are they willing to go? Vicouryn hasn’t been able to indulge her desires for a very long time, so she is quite ready to go as far as possible, but because they lack experience she will need to be slow and careful. Perhaps she’s already thought of tying them down and showing them  _ true  _ pleasure over and over until they could not take it anymore, and perhaps she’s already thought of taking them from the inside until they’re crying out underneath her, but she cannot jump so far so soon.

Despite her desires, she does have patience. For now, she can simply kiss and touch, and perhaps ask to see if they are amiable to going further, and if they are not she will still be quite pleased indeed to see how they give themself up and then fall apart under her hands. She is certain she can fulfill all of their physical desires and then some, and knowing that she is the only one that can make them feel that way is a  _ very  _ good thought.

As a queen she has control in some ways but she also has etiquette and courtesy, but with Weiren perhaps she can really enact the true control and physicality she’s been holding back all this time. She hasn’t been able to do that to someone for a very long time, and so she is  _ very  _ excited at the prospect of having Weiren.

King Yahsan says something, drawing her attention briefly but it is just to the army general on the other side of the table, and her mind instead returns to where it really wants to be: the person she’s claimed and the person that gave themself to her. If they want to be  _ all  _ hers in this physical arrangement of theirs then she will be doing much more to solidify her grasp on them. She needs to do more, to  _ learn  _ more. She needs to learn more about them, but she isn’t sure she should just up and ask them. Despite this agreement that the two of them share she does not want to make it too personal. Weiren may desire the bite, the touch, and the domination, but she is sure that they do not want the queen, the vampire, and the issues that come with that, and she does not want to imply anything dangerous by expressing more interest in them. Or maybe she should? Maybe they do like her more beyond what she can provide and maybe they’re even deeper in her grasp than she thinks. 

It would not be right for a queen to pry for more information about one of her knights, but oh she wants to know more, and she  _ should  _ know more. She  _ can  _ find out more, she just needs to figure out the best way of going about it. Weiren likes her touch, but how much do they like her as a person?

There is indeed someone who knows them, she remembers, someone who may know more and may be able to tell her more. Someone who knows that she meets with them….

***

Lynne doesn’t know how things have turned out this way.

“I am curious to know if…  _ Weiren  _ has been speaking to you about anything,” the queen says, drawing her words out as she taps her fingers lightly on the table. Lynne doesn’t miss how the queen drops Weiren’s name as opposed to what she’s done in the past.

That’s right, she’s been called to another meeting with Queen Vicouryn, and it’s for her to ask about Weiren  _ again,  _ which Lynne believes isn’t quite what the castle conference rooms are actually supposed to be used for during wartime.

After Weiren came to talk to her, Lynne's pretty certain that against all odds Vicouryn has somehow discovered what a personal attachment to another person is like, and of all people it has to be her friend. She wonders if she has any past relationships, which certainly she must considering how old she probably is, but for some reason Lynne has difficulty imagining the stoic, statue-adjacent woman expressing any form of tenderness to anyone at all, though she supposes it kind of makes sense that the people-pleasing, kind and warm Weiren can be the one to possibly break through her cold exterior.

Can she just tell them she loves them or whatever and move on? If the queen has been leaving love bites on Weiren’s neck, and Weiren’s just been straight up giving their entire body to her,  _ obviously  _ there’s something there.

“Certainly, I do speak to my comrades regularly,” Lynne says, eyeing the queen. How much favor does the vampire hold in her undead heart for Weiren? It is very difficult to judge. “I’m sure you already know this, but it sounds like they are very fond of their relationship with you, whatever it may be. They seem to be happier than usual.”

“Oh?” Vicouryn says, leaning back, “What have they told you?”

Hmm. Lynne wants to just usher the two of them along to go ahead and just admit their feelings, but she doesn’t want to implicate Weiren for telling her sensitive information, and she also doesn’t want to be the one to break the news of either them being in love, which they are both probably well on their way to falling fully into it.

“I am simply curious to know how they may speak of me when I am not around, and you  _ are  _ the only other person aware that we meet,” Vicouryn adds, narrowing her eyes just the slightest amount, “I’m sure they must confide some amount in you.”

How crazy is it that both of them, on the same damn day, come to Lynne to ask how the other feels about them? Sure, Lynne has her experience with relationships and love and nonsense, but that doesn’t necessarily make her an expert. 

“Confiding means they tell me things in  _ confidence _ , your majesty,” Lynne says, “and it is not my business to share.”

There’s a pause as the two women stare at each other across the conference table. Lynne holds her ground against the vampire.

“Hm,” Vicouryn returns, folding her hands, “I suppose this is to be expected.”

“What exactly are you hoping to learn?” Lynne asks, though she has her suspicions.

“I merely want to make sure that they hold me in a positive regard,” Vicouryn returns, “as you’ve said, they can be reserved at times.”

What a Vicouryn-esque way of saying she wants to know if they like her.

“Well, if they’re still meeting with you, doesn’t that mean they like and respect you?” Lynne prompts logically, though she can’t help but think about the fact that Weiren  _ literally  _ apparently gave themself to her, which really, shouldn’t that be answer enough?

“Perhaps, though it is possible they feel obligated due to my being of royalty, or for other reasons,” the queen answers, putting a hand to her chin in a thoughtful gesture.

“If you are worried, then maybe there are some things you can do for them,” the tiefling suggests.

“Yes,” the queen says, “I am already working on a gift for them.”

Lynne blinks in surprise as the queen turns to draw something up onto the table. It’s a thin, painted wooden box, and the queen opens it to reveal a folded piece of black fabric.

“As you are their traveling companion, I imagine you may know something about their tastes,” Queen Vicouryn says, turning her gaze back to Lynne expectantly, “Would they find this agreeable?”

Lynne looks from Vicouryn in her completely black outfit down to the black cloth, which must be a scarf or a handkerchief or something of that sort, and then back at Vicouryn, mouth partly open in surprise.

“I don’t believe they normally wear a color this dark,” Lynne finally says, and she’s trying to avoid laughing because it’s kind of hilarious that Vicouryn of course picked something black. If Weiren wears  _ this _ , it’ll be a pretty loud indicator that a certain someone has put her claim on them.

“Really.” Vicouryn narrows her eyes as she puts the lid back on the box, and Lynne thinks she sees the barest,  _ barest  _ hint of what could possibly be embarrassment or indignation, “I believe I saw them wear dark plenty.”

“They were wearing Mevaden clothes for the Nights of Rebirth, your majesty,” Lynne says, trying to placate her, “And I believe those are the only fine clothes they have currently, so it makes sense that you would have seen them wearing it frequently. When traveling, though, they have a very different set of colors.”

“Hm.” The queen makes some kind of noise of discontentment as she places the box back on the seat beside her. “Then, tell me what you would suggest.”

“Something warm and natural,” Lynne replies, “like olive green, or perhaps red or yellow? That’s what I normally see them wearing.”

“I see,” Vicouryn returns, resting a hand on the edge of the table as she contemplates this, “I appreciate this information.”

There’s a pause.

“If they have other preferences, I would like to know,” Vicouryn says, and she fixes Lynne with another stare.

Lynne can’t believe how in love the queen must be, or infatuated, or attached, or whatever. This is truly crazy. The woman came to  _ her  _ to find out more about Weiren without asking them directly. 

But, honestly, thinking back on her journeys with Weiren, there aren’t that many things she really knows about their preferences, aside from nature good and nobility bad. And, she guesses, alcohol also bad?

“More recently, I’ve seen them do more reading and writing,” Lynne points out, “I’ve also been teaching them how to use a lyre, but only a bit.”

Vicouryn nods subtly as Lynne talks, probably mentally memorizing what she’s saying, and the tiefling is honestly still reeling from the fact that a queen is asking her for help about  _ feelings.  _ How often does one find themself in such a position?

At least it seems like Queen Vicouryn is genuinely interested in learning more about Weiren and hopefully making them happy if she’s willing to ask these questions to Lynne. She can’t imagine it’s easy for her to talk to some random adventurer like this.

“I guess… lastly, I have noticed that they do like to read specifically love stories, so it’s possible that they’re a bit of a romantic, but they haven’t talked much about it,” Lynne finishes, though she tries to say it matter-of-factly without implying that the two are in love even though they really seem like they are, or at least will be. It’s a bit of a more personal piece of information to share but she thinks it might help? “Anything else, you’ll probably have to learn directly from them.”

Vicouryn narrows her eyes at this information, almost as if it is something she can’t quite grasp. Lynne can’t blame her; she has much trouble imagining a romantic Vicouryn.

“I… see,” she finally says.

“I wish I could help more, your majesty,” Lynne adds politely.

“This information and your cooperation is appreciated, Lynne. I will take your advice under consideration. Otherwise, I believe our business here is concluded,” the queen states, inclining her head. Lynne stands to bow.

“Have a good night, your majesty,” she says, exhaling in relief as she rises from her bow. With a motion of the queen’s hand, she is dismissed.

***

“I uh, have something to return,” Weiren says a little shyly as they enter Vicouryn’s chambers beside her. They’ve been waiting to give it to her since this morning. It’s really been the only thing on their mind. To be honest, Vicouryn in general has been the only thing on their mind. She just… makes them so happy.

And now they’re hers… a small smile forms on their face at that thought. There’s proof, too, in the form of love marks across their body.

Thinking back to their conversation with Lynne, they really think they’ll be alright if Vicouryn doesn’t like them that way, as long as she lets them stay beside her. That’s what they want most of all.

“I’m certain you do,” the queen returns, closing the door behind them with a click. Then with a swift motion she pushes them against the door, leaning over them dangerously, “I’d love to have it back.”

“Come take it,” Weiren challenges, loving her teasing aggression as she practically corners them against the door. Guess since she knows that they just  _ love  _ being pinned to things, apparently, it’ll be happening more frequently. Not that they have any complaints. It seems she has as much fun as they do during their shenanigans. 

“The kiss? Or  _ you _ ?” she says, smirking, reaching to hold their face up, “Having the kiss returned is nice and all… but it doesn’t compare to having  _ you.  _ You  _ have  _ been away from me this whole day, and just after you gave yourself to me and everything.”

“Both,” the paladin answers, “and everything else. It isn’t my fault you’ve been so busy with the war council.” 

Her words send thrills through them; it almost sounds like they’re her lover when she phrases it like that, and it surely is a wonderful thought even if it can’t be true.

“Perhaps not,” the vampire tsks, “But I certainly would have preferred to have you for longer. I suppose I’ll just have to make up for it now, and take you over and over again.”

Weiren blushes hard at that particular sentence, and Vicouryn’s smirk deepens when she sees that.

“Um,” Weiren says, “As much as I would like that, I was hoping I could at least take an hour or two with you to um… do a bit of studying. I wanted to ask you about some things about Mevaden's history.”

Vicouryn cocks her head.

“I suppose you have shown yourself to be more studious than I initially thought,” she says, “I can assist, but I hope you aren’t expecting to escape me entirely. I  _ am  _ intending to take back what you owe me, and perhaps even more.”

She tilts their head to the side as she speaks, gazing down at them darkly.

“I wonder how long you can even concentrate on studying when I am free to do whatever I please?” Vicouryn muses, and she brings her face down to kiss Weiren, a little aggressively, jumping quickly from a shallow touch to a deep one, holding their jaw close to her as she reaches and touches and claims them. Their knees feel weak as she does so, her tongue dextrous and skilled as she kisses them, doing everything she knows that they like, making them lightheaded so, so quickly. Weiren’s resolve is already fading in the face of such an intimate kiss, their body instead wanting to just do  _ this  _ for the foreseeable future and nothing but. They nearly drop the tomes they’re holding onto, but barely manage to hang on.

Finally, she breaks away, and Weiren’s embarrassed to see the slightest shine of saliva connecting their two mouths until she’s far enough away that it snaps. How does she manage to affect them so strongly? But they still can’t look away; she’s holding their face in place, forcing them to hold eye contact.

Still, not that they mind.

“Now, I have taken back what is rightfully mine,” Vicouryn says smugly, looking somehow unfazed from the oral assault she just lay upon Weiren, “and I am ready to  _ study  _ as you wanted.”

Weiren stares at her, aghast, because now they just want to hurl all their books to the side and just fall into her arms, but the information they want to learn is very important, and she’s clearly just trying to get them to give in to her.

The paladin raises the books between them, face burning.

“Yes, let’s,” Weiren says, narrowing their eyes, “It shouldn’t take too long, anyway.”

Vicouryn lets their face go with an amused smile, and allows them to awkwardly shuffle out from her grasp towards the chairs in the room, following close behind. The queen takes a seat on the chaise lounge, reclining with one leg up and the other dangling off the side, and then pats the space she’s created in front of her, in a surprisingly more casual behavior. Perhaps after the events of last night, both of them have become more bold.

“Come, sit,” she says deviously. Weiren gives her a withering look, but comes over and sits gingerly between her legs, and she pulls them towards her to lean their back against her chest.

“Remember, studying!” Weiren says sternly, turning their head to look back at her over their shoulder, and she just smiles back at them in her subtle way.

“Of course. Read and ask away, Weiren,” she says innocently.

They don’t quite trust her intent, but they know they’ll be able to ask her about things after this, too. She has too much fun at their expense to  _ not  _ take this opportunity to do something to them, they’re sure of it.

Weiren attempts to get down to business, but the fact of the matter is that Queen Vicouryn's legs are on either side of them, her body is pressed firmly all across their back, and she’s just now resting her chin on their shoulder, gazing down at the book they’re opening. They flip to the page where they’d left a scrap of paper as a bookmark, finding the passage that talked of Mevaden’s historical interactions with Brauven, but it’s barely been a few seconds before the queen wraps her arms around their midsection, squeezing them close.

That isn’t too bad, it’s something they can deal with.

“You uh, you said your father ruled before you,” Weiren starts, pointing down at the words, “It’s a little unclear how Mevaden and Brauven felt about each other prior to the formation of the alliance, but I believe Mevaden has a- uh!”

They’re cut off by the sensation of Vicouryn lazily pulling their tucked shirt free from their belted pants underneath their book, her hands now roaming freely as opposed to staying put.

“Hm?” the queen hums against their ear, “something wrong?”

“I was asking when- when Mevaden got its airship from Brauven,” Weiren coughs, “Since I believe all three main kingdoms have at least one?”

“Indeed, though after the events of Gishal most of us are loath to use them. Mevaden has one, obtained by my father just a bit prior to my taking of the throne,” Vicouryn says softly, pressing her mouth to their shoulder as she speaks, touching them through the light fabric of their undershirt. 

Weiren controls an exhale, trying to focus on storing this information in their brain, but maybe they should write this stuff down instead. They reach down to the table where their notebook is, grabbing it as well as their black quill, but the queen takes this opportunity to let her fingers slip up underneath the bottom of their shirt, just resting against their stomach. They try not to react beyond a flinch as they dip the quill into ink with a shaky hand and start to write down a few notes.

“This  _ is  _ all information I can tell you about later,” Vicouryn says beside their ear, and she leans closer to their neck to start mouthing at it. Weiren grips the quill a little tighter at the sensation. “If I hadn’t just taken your blood last night, this would be quite an excellent opportunity to drain you from behind, with you all trapped in my arms like this.”

“I-I’m sure it would,” Weiren returns, voice wavering as they squint at the pages of their notebook. Vicouryn responds by pressing the flat of her tongue against the base of their neck and dragging it up part way, just a couple inches beneath their ear and drawing forth a gasp from their mouth. Then she begins to kiss the spot, deliberately tormenting them and breaking their focus. Weiren’s breath speeds up. They’re not ready to give in, not yet-

Cool fingers slide up their skin, slowly and languidly across their midsection, tickling and stroking them.

“I want to see you come undone,” Vicouryn whispers against their neck, “See how easily you fall apart in my arms.” Gods, she is so much more forward now, after having taken them, after they gave themself to her. Now that she knows they actively enjoy her controlling nature she seems emboldened to be more aggressive.

Weiren is so torn, not sure whether they want to keep up this challenge and prove that they can handle this or if they should just succumb to her expert touches, because really they  _ know  _ that they fall apart quite easily underneath her. 

“You- you haven’t seen it enough?” They ask, shuddering at her touch as she grazes her teeth against them. One of her hands rises higher up their shirt, coming to their pectoral where she lets a cool fingertip lay atop the bundle of nerves positioned there, and Weiren lets out a soft noise, curling in on themself.

“Absolutely not,” she says back, “I’ll need to see it many times over.”

Her other arm underneath the shirt wraps more firmly around their waist and pulls them closer. Weiren has to stop their studying materials from falling from their lap, and they just give up and drop them back onto the table. Clearly there isn’t going to be any more studying tonight.

As they’re pressed even more against Vicouryn, the vampire kisses that same spot more intensely, and somewhere Weiren realizes she  _ must  _ be making another mark, because the several she has already left are clearly not enough, right? She sucks hard at the area, her hands gripping them in place, and there’s a lingering thought that the mark might be too high to hide properly…

The pressure lets up and she returns to kissing their neck, spreading touches up and down their skin for a bit, and then she seals her mouth back around the spot again, resuming the process of marking them. Weiren tenses as she does so, focusing on that familiar sensation even if deeper down they kind of wish she would bite them again.

“Isn’t that… kind of visible?” Weiren breathes as the queen finishes, pulling away from their neck. Their hand reaches up to touch the sensitive area, and it  _ does  _ seem to be in a spot that’s not as commonly concealed as the lower parts of their neck.

“Possibly,” Vicouryn hums, a hint of dark glee in the sound, “Do not worry, however. I will give you something to hide it later.”

She drags her hands across their skin, and Weiren can see the forms of her fingers underneath the white cloth of their shirt, making swirling patterns on all of their sensitive places, grazing their muscles and soft flesh.

“A-another gift?” Weiren says, trying to think of what it could be, but they’re distracted by the other sensations she’s bestowing upon them.

“Indeed. You’ll be needing it, anyway.”

Her words come with unmistakable implications that make them shiver, and she chuckles beside them. She draws her dangling leg back up and crosses it underneath Weiren’s bent knees, and they can feel the chill on the backs of their thighs. Even more than ever before they’re held so much more in her grasp.

The hands slide out from inside their shirt and rise up to undo the top few buttons as Weiren breathes, recovering in this brief respite, but it’s not too long until they duck back under the fabric, and one of them climbs up their chest, breaking out through the newly unbuttoned shirt to lightly rest on the front of their neck, hovering over their adam’s apple. The other settles with trailing side to side between their pectorals, fingernails just barely scratching the lightest sensation across them. Weiren can feel her palm with every inhale. 

What a strange and new method of torturous intimacy to play on them, where they cannot see her face or do much in return, left to just gasp and moan while locked in her arms. It’s like what she said just this morning, asking if they appreciated even the side of her that would just bestow pleasure upon them relentlessly, and all they could do is endure it, flushed and warm and sensitive until they simply fell apart.

All this sensation and they haven’t even kissed since first entering the room. Weiren can’t even imagine how long they’ll be able to handle it.

The hand on their neck drifts north, curling up and around their chin to touch their open lips. Breathless and hot, Weiren attempts to plant a small kiss on the finger against their lower lip, as their current only way to reciprocate, their arms capable of only reaching backwards at an awkward angle.

“Hmm,” Vicouryn says, “you seem so desperate to kiss.”

Weiren flushes harder as they feel a teasing pinch on their chest, gasping vocally.

The fingers at their mouth bend just a bit, and pass the threshold of their lips in a dangerously similar fashion to their last meeting, brushing the edges of their teeth. On reflex their lips part even more, and she laughs again.

“I  _ can  _ occupy this until it’s time to kiss if you  _ really  _ want,” she whispers, and a finger presses gently against their tongue. Really what Weiren wants is to just go back to kissing, but there’s something about the current situation that thrills them, too. They vocalize some kind of affirmation, nodding their head even if it’s kind of embarrassing, and she lets two of her digits slide in to rest on their tongue, just gently holding them there as she keeps touching them with her other hand, happy to just keep doing things to them for as long as she wants. 

For a bit there’s no more talking, just Weiren letting soft sounds out around Vicouryn's cold fingers as she kisses their neck more and runs her hand all across their chest, feather light and deliciously pleasurable. They wonder how long she will keep this up, playing with them for minutes or for hours as retribution for them suggesting they study instead of touching one another. Even if it’s driving them crazy they feel like perhaps they could sit here forever, trapped by her touch, unable and unwilling to escape.

After a time that brings them to a strange sense of deliriousness, Vicouryn pulls her fingers from their mouth, and the hand under their shirt drifts lower. Weiren has to blink and remember where they are.

“I  _ would  _ like to know if you are interested in perhaps going farther still, though you are under no obligation to do so,” her voice says, bringing them to the present, and they’re now quite aware of the cool fingers resting just above the hem of their pants. A bit of fear rises in their chest, but she is not pressuring them.

“I…” Weiren says, looking down at themself nervously, “I’m not sure if I’m… ready for that.” Their voice softens as they speak, a little downcast at possibly disappointing her, but what she is suggesting seems like such a huge leap to make and they aren’t feeling prepared at all, though certainly if they were ever to do that kind of thing they would want it to be with her. 

“That is fine,” she returns, reassurance in her voice, “There is nothing wrong with that. There is plenty to do otherwise, as we’ve already demonstrated.”

“But,” Weiren says quickly, “When I am ready, I’ll tell you. If you still want… me… that is…” They trail off as the words go, knowing that the future is uncertain. What if her interest in them declines?

“I  _ eagerly  _ await that day,” Vicouryn says, pressing her face against their skin to whisper against them, “As you have given yourself to me, I will be wanting to keep you and your body for quite some time.”

Gods, the way she says it, though. Their  _ body.  _ They hope she enjoys their companionship enough to wait for however long they’ll have to wait, especially due to the whole war and their adventuring.

“Can it um... be kissing time now?” Weiren asks plaintively, slightly thrown off by the brief discussion and wanting to just return to their comfortable and simple intimacy.

“Certainly,” Vicouryn returns, and she helps them twist and turn to face her, her hands bracing their waist the whole way, fingers pressed firmly against them. Even if they’re technically the one hovering above her, Vicouryn is the one holding them up until they find a good balance and place their hands on her shoulders. Once they’re finally settled, though, Vicouryn pulls them closer to meet them in a kiss.

How does it feel so good every time?

Weiren practically sinks into it immediately, mouth opening to deepen it as soon as they can, and Vicouryn smiles against them, but she starts shallow instead, most likely to keep teasing them in their desperation. How unfair that she stopped them from studying only to hold back in her touch after working them up! 

The queen takes her time, leisurely planting kisses on and around their mouth, but never giving them quite the kind they want, the kind where she’s everywhere inside them and overwhelming them and taking what she wants. Instead she’s light and gentle and fleeting, almost uncaring to how much Weiren wants to just get to the deep kiss.

“Patience,” Vicouryn says in a light voice, breaking away to smile at them.

“Really?” Weiren huffs, “After all that, you’re telling  _ me  _ to be patient? You couldn’t-”

They’re cut off by Vicouryn sealing her lips over theirs, her hands gripping their head quite firmly and her mouth opening to perhaps finally give them what they want. Weiren barely cares about being interrupted, they’re so desperate to feel her lips that they just reciprocate as fast as they can, letting their own mouth open too. Their heads move back and forth as they push and pull against each other, giving and taking kisses, Weiren going at it almost hungrily this time, having been teased for so long, and Vicouryn obliges their desires with ease, moving more assertively to reach at and in them, kissing them deeply and heavily. Her hands slide down from their face to their shoulders and chest, then even further to their waist and hips. Weiren throws their arms around her neck as she does so, and her grip on them hardens.

With that, she practically flips them over with ease, rolling so that she’s back in her natural state above them, bodies flush against each other as they continue to kiss. Her tongue reaches far, sliding alongside theirs, painting across the inside of their mouth as if it was her own, and it just makes them melt beneath her. Everything she does just feels so wonderful and they wish they could stop time just so they could stay here for even longer, prey to her domineering touch for as long she wants.

“You’ve really become quite the natural,” Vicouryn says as she backs away for a second, “Who could have known?” 

Weiren’s too busy breathing hard to reply, chest rising and falling quickly as they gasp. She smirks at that, and Weiren knows they must be quite a sight yet again. They manage half a smile back up at her, as best they can, dizzy from all the kissing.

“Thanks to you,” they return, “all thanks to you.”

Vicouryn shakes her head, a little amused.

“It’s interesting to see just how much you seem to yearn for touch,” she says, sitting back, now straddling them as per usual as she strokes the side of their face. Weiren averts their eyes, pressing their lips together.

She tilts her head.

“I quite like to see you so wanting,” she adds, her hand pulling their head back to look up at her, “And so much at my mercy.” There’s a bit of darkness to her eyes, but it’s expected. Weiren knows how much the queen likes to have people subservient to her. “It’s good to know that you like it just as much.”

Weiren flushes again, but really, it’s all just true.

“Perhaps this is enough for now,” the vampire muses, running the hand down from their face to their chest, “and we can do some more of this  _ studying  _ that you wanted to do.”

Weiren gives her a skeptical look, because they’re pretty sure she might just begin fooling around again.

“Really,” they say, deadpan.

Vicouryn slides off of them, taking their hand to pull them up to a more sitting position, shirt rumpled and hair messy. She passes them the book they’d dropped on the table, and then crosses a leg over the other as she sits down beside them.

“This is your chance,” the vampire says, glancing down at their other work materials on the table, “you should take it, before I change my mind.”

_ Right, okay.  _ Weiren stifles a low laugh, brushing their hair back and opening the book once more. 

Time to get to work.

***

Weiren wakes from their meditative trance blissfully and happily, curled up on their side with the pressure of their favorite vampire all along their back, her body mirroring their position. One of her arms passes underneath their head and pillow, filling the space left by the natural concavity of the neck between jaw and shoulder, and the other is draped across their waist, hand underneath their loose shirt and against their bare midsection, holding them against her. The contact is constant and unyielding and they wish it would never leave them. They sigh in contentedness, and reach back to put their own hand atop the one on their body, relishing in the familiar cool temperature of Queen Vicouryn. They can feel the incredibly slow and chilled breaths gust gently against the back of their neck.

How they wish they could stay here forever…

“Good morning, Weiren,” Vicouryn’s voice comes, and the weight behind them shifts. She pulls her arm out from underneath the pillow and props herself up on her elbow. Weiren tilts their body a bit to look back at her ethereal face in the darkness. Mostly stoic, but there’s a bit more of a relaxed sense to her expression.

Gods, they could never get tired of seeing her.

“Morning,” Weiren says back, softly and with a small smile.

They say morning, but as elves, they wake far before the actual sunrise. Vicouryn doesn’t even normally sleep at night, but there is not much she can do when in Gedal and alongside her non-nocturnal fellow kings.

Vicouryn’s hand slips out from under Weiren’s and glides up their side, trailing up their arm to their neck.

“Hm,” she hums in satisfaction, letting her fingertips rest there, “a good many more marks. Were we in a different situation, it’d be quite a wonderful way to let everyone know how you’ve given yourself to me.”

Weiren’s cheeks warm at the comment. At this point they have no idea how many times she’s marked them because it seems to be one of her favorite things to do, and there’s just so many of them across their body that they’ve stopped keeping track.

“I don’t even know how I’m going to hide these new ones,” Weiren says, shooting her a look as she smirks, “you put them too high.”

“Imagine if you  _ didn’t  _ hide them,” Vicouryn returns, “And everyone would know that someone’s got a claim on you.”

Weiren turns even more red, and they sit up to face her properly with a small frown.

“I’d never live it down,” they say, “Everyone in the Concord  _ knows  _ I’ve never been in a relationship and I can’t even imagine the questions they’d ask.”

“Perhaps you’ve never been in a romantic relationship,” Vicouryn says, “but you  _ are  _ in an intimate one, now, and with a  _ queen,  _ no less. Certainly that puts you ahead of some of them?”

“There’s no way I can tell them that!” Weiren exclaims, though still quiet in the night, “Besides, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t want anyone to find out, either.”

Vicouryn clicks her tongue.

“Perhaps,” she says, glancing away briefly, “But I do like when everyone  _ knows  _ when someone is in  _ my  _ possession.”

Weiren sighs, rubbing at their cheeks to try and force away their blush, but the thought of people  _ knowing  _ what they’ve been doing is so terrifying, but gods, what if people  _ did  _ know?

“Do not worry, Weiren,” Vicouryn says, her mirthful smile fading away to reassurance as she pats them gently on the head, in a strangely more compassionate gesture that they don’t quite expect, “No one will be finding anything out. I would not let that happen. Now, I do have something for you.”

With that, she slides out of the bed and gracefully strides to the drawers at the foot of her wardrobe. Weiren watches as she opens the upper drawer and pulls out a flat black box, just a couple inches thick and perhaps half a foot long and wide. 

“Come,” she says, stepping to stand by the mirror. Weiren obeys, getting out of the bed and making their way over to her, and she gestures for them to stand in front of the mirror for this moment, though Weiren immediately averts their gaze from the sight of their very well-marked neck.

She passes the box to them with an expectant look. Weiren blinks, taking it from her curiously. There’s a simple black ribbon holding it closed, and they pull at the ends to undo them. An actual gift, beyond just a random keepsake to promise they’ll meet again? They gingerly pull the lid off, revealing a dark, folded fabric of what must be a very high quality. It’s dyed a very dark red, nearly black in the current lighting. Weiren reaches for it with their free hand, and it feels so incredibly smooth, and they guess it is a silk of some sort, or some other rare fabric, not quite as shiny as silk. They draw it forth from the box, and it unravels to show what they can only imagine to be a fine scarf.

She’s given them a gift that they can actually wear properly on their person! They’re at a loss for words. looking between her and the scarf in their hands.

Vicouryn has a pleased look on their face as Weiren stares down at this incredibly fine piece of fabric, surprised. 

“W-wow,” they manage to say, not sure what else to add.

“Let us see how it looks on you,” she says, taking the box and setting it down on the chest of drawers nearby. She moves to stand behind them, her hands on their shoulders as she guides them to stand properly in front of the mirror. Weiren watches as her arms come in front of them to redo the undone buttons of their shirt, concealing some but not all of the dark areas of their neck, and then she holds out an expecting hand. 

Wordlessly, Weiren passes the scarf to her, entranced by the sight of Vicouryn standing so possessively behind them. They’ve done so many things with her but they’ve never  _ seen  _ themself by her like this. Their hair is a little wild and their clothes loose, but their attention shifts as Vicouryn loops the soft fabric around their neck once and then twice, letting the ends hang as she pulls their hair free of the scarf, fingers brushing their skin.

“Now, of course there are several ways to arrange a scarf like this,” she whispers, leaning closer over their shoulder, “But I believe it will be quite beneficial in hiding any of my marks.”

Vicouryn says this, and Weiren appreciates the sentiment, but them putting on an article of clothing like  _ this  _ almost seems to be an even louder indication of her claim on them than the marks themself. They normally wear only earthy colors, browns and greens and some rusty reds, and grays only when they’re wearing armor of some sort. They almost  _ never  _ wear a color this dark, this kind of a dark wine red, though they suppose all of their Mevaden clothes  _ are  _ that dark or even darker...

Perhaps it won’t look so dark in normal sunlight. Maybe it is close enough to those rusty reds to match.

Still, the thought of wearing something gifted to them by Vicouryn makes them thrilled and giddy. A real gift from her, which doesn’t that mean she has positive feelings about them? They don’t know how much she likes them but certainly this must be a symbol of a good amount of fondness, or at least gratitude? Even if it’s just a sign of possession, that must mean she likes them a good amount, in whatever way she does. Maybe Lynne’s right, the queen  _ does  _ like them more than just a partner.

“I hope it is to your liking,” she says as she adjusts the scarf, pulling it up to conceal most of their neck and tying it in some fancy way, though being careful not to make it too tight. 

“It’s… pretty,” Weiren says, slowly, unsure of how to best describe it, “I’ve never really owned something this nice before.” Their hand reaches up to touch it and they turn their head left and right to look at it, and it really does cover up all of the other marks left on them, even if it looks unnatural on them compared to what they usually wear. In a way it feels right to wear something from her, but it’s so far beyond their normal wardrobe that it almost looks wrong.

“To me, it is particularly exquisite when on you. And now that you’re a knight of Doluum, it is only fitting you dress in a more noble manner. You have a higher standing now, and that doesn’t even include the fact that you are  _ personally  _ mine,” Vicouryn states, and she wraps an arm around their waist and lets her other hand come up to cup the side of their face in what is undoubtedly a possessive gesture that makes them exhale. She locks eyes with them through the mirror in a way that makes them freeze for just a second.

It looks… so  _ right  _ when Weiren sees her holding them in the mirror, but her words are a little conflicting with how they feel. A higher standing? True, they have become more accustomed to a bit more finery than before, but they really belong among the more common crowds, or perhaps more on the road, where they’re dressed comfortably and surrounded by the wilderness of the outdoors. Vicouryn comes from such a different world than from where they originated. How did they, a dirty, lone elf barely surviving in the streets manage to end up here, a paladin and a knight no less, with the favor of a queen so much that she’s intimate with them?

But the way she says it sends sparks of adrenaline and happiness through them. They love to hear her call them  _ hers _ . That’s the truth, after all, they did give themself to her, at least within the grounds of their arrangement, and they will stay hers until they decide they no longer want to be, except they can’t possibly imagine that ever happening. They just…  _ want  _ to be hers, forever, and it’s so clear that she quite likes having them, too.

“Thank you.” Weiren settles with an expression of gratitude, reaching up to hold her hand to their face with their own. It always feels so nice like that. They can see Vicouryn’s smile grow a little wider in the mirror, and she turns to press a kiss just beneath their ear. Weiren’s eyes widen. “You aren’t going to make a new one that I can’t hide, are you?” They ask incredulously, and the queen laughs against them.

“What a great idea you’ve given me,” she says with a smile, “but of course not.” She pulls back, gazing at them through the reflective surface. “Perhaps one day I’ll have the opportunity to dress you to my tastes.”

Gods, really? They can barely imagine it, only ever having seen her nearly entirely black wardrobe, adorned with red patterns or raven feathers. What would they even look like?

They kind of want to know…

“Maybe,” Weiren says, “that sounds like it could be fun.” 

Vicouryn chuckles again, nodding.

“Indeed,” she agrees, and lets them go, “Unfortunately, today is not the day for that, and it is probably best if you leave soon; I have some early appointments I must deal with.”

“Oh, alright,” Weiren says, “I understand.” Though they keep looking at themself with the dark scarf on, still taking in the sight.

“As you mentioned previously, we may share in drink again tonight, if you so desire,” she adds, and then she’s pressing their other clothes back into their hands. Weiren takes them and begins to pull them back on, nodding.

“I’d like that,” they answer, “And I’ll be more careful this time.”

“You  _ will _ ,” Vicouryn says, “I will make sure of it.”

A little shiver runs down their spine at her words.

“Good to know,” Weiren finally says as they pull on the outermost fine jacket. There’s a second as they fuss around with the scarf, trying to pull it up so it can sit on top of this layer too. After a moment Vicouryn simply reaches towards them and does it herself, using her more practiced hands to properly arrange the fancy garment. Thankfully, even if it is of fine make, it is plain otherwise. There are no fanciful embellishments or trim; it is just a solid, dark red, and hopefully it won’t spark any suspicion from their friends.

“There we go,” she says, quite pleased at the sight of them wearing it on the rest of their finer clothes, “Perfect.” 

Weiren blushes under her gaze and motions, and she smiles a little more.

“Thanks,” they say, a little embarrassed.

“Of course,” she returns.

Weiren collects their other belongings. Luckily, despite Vicouryn’s desire to just stop them from doing anything productive, there was an hour in which they were able to discuss history with her and learn a little more, so at least there’s that.

“I’m certain it doesn’t need to be said, but this gift is not one you need to return,” Vicouryn says as Weiren gets ready to depart, “It would please me if you were to wear it often.”

“I will,” Weiren says, reaching up to touch it again; it feels so unfamiliar, but it does have a nice sensation. The fabric is cool and soft, like her touch. And it rests on their neck, which she also quite likes to play with. It’s a wonderful reminder of her for when they’re apart.

“Then,” she says, stroking their face with a fond expression, “until next time.”

  
  


lol its the hickey scarf


	19. Another Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiren and Vicouryn share wine again, and a few sentiments slip from the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow only a couple more chapters left to upload... wack  
> im 50k words into sequel tho so there will be stuff coming after!

“That’s a pretty scarf, Weiren,” Lynne comments innocently, “And good morning.”

“Oh! Um, thanks, Lynne. Morning,” the paladin returns, a little thrown off guard, but of course Lynne’s the one who notices. Her gaze lingers on their neck for just a few seconds before returning to meet their eyes.

They get the sense that she might know where it could have come from, and she definitely knows what they’re hiding by wearing it.

“It’s a nice color,” she says, and smiles at them, “And it looks good on you.”

Weiren blushes a bit, as they are wont to do when given compliments.

“Really? You think so?” They reach up a hand to lightly touch their throat as Lynne nods. Knowing that Vicouryn’s gift looks nice on them is good to hear. 

“Thank you.” Weiren likes to wear the scarf. Somewhere in their head they can pretend it’s a gift of affection, even if they know it really isn’t.

***

It’s not done as nicely as when Vicouryn did it, but Weiren does have the scarf wrapped around their neck when they meet her again. They’d done their best to keep it on all day, both out of desire and of necessity, because they  _ needed  _ to hide their neck from public view, especially with the fresh marks from their previous encounter.

As usual now, Vicouryn comes to the library herself to fetch them, all stoic and impassive as she leads them through shadows and darkness back to her chambers. Weiren feels the urge to maybe reach for her hand as they walk, but it doesn’t seem like something they should do, and so they don’t. Not until they’re behind closed doors, at least, but even then it feels like it should only be when they’re touching each other.

Once inside, Vicouryn has them against her door again.

“I made quite a good decision with that gift,” she says, admiring the scarf on their neck, “You look very appealing with it.”

“Oh! Um, thanks?” Weiren glances down as they touch the end of the fabric, rubbing it between two fingers. They don’t doubt that the scarf looks great, but it’s still a little weird on them, though both Lynne and Vicouryn have complimented them on it.

“Of course,” Vicouryn answers in a pleased fashion, “Though I will be taking it off you for tonight.”

Her hand reaches to hook behind the cloth at their neck, and she gently tugs. As they’d put it on in a looser fashion, it pulls free quite easily, sliding out from under their hair and falling away, revealing their heavily, heavily marked neck.

“Hmm,” she says, holding the length of it between two hands, “I can think of a few more uses for this, but perhaps I’ll save those for later. For now, let us get comfortable and have some wine.”

Vicouryn pulls away from them, and Weiren's brain immediately forms theories for these ideas she’s gotten, and they’re pretty sure they can guess what they are, but perhaps it would be better to wait and continue the slow climb to whatever lies in the future. They aren’t sure how much they want to mix spirits with anything else yet. So instead they settle with dressing down to their usual attire, leaving their clothes and scarf hanging off the back of the armchair in the room while Vicouryn retrieves the wine. Weiren takes a second to hook a finger into their shirt and pull it away and get another look down at themself, and yep, there still are so many dark spots left behind by a certain vampire. They feel like they can never be shirtless before anyone else ever again. How long do these even last? They don’t know. Maybe they count as some kind of wound that they can heal, but they also don’t want to erase them away like that.

Vicouryn sets the tray down on the low table again as Weiren sits. It’s the same bottle as last time, though it’s been corked since then, and there’s new cups.

The queen, too, takes a seat across from them. With careful hands, she pours two drinks, though still giving herself much less, and then raises her glass.

“To  _ you,  _ Weiren, for becoming  _ mine _ ,” she says with a dark smile, prompting a dark red flush to appear on the paladin’s face.

“Then, t-to you, for accepting me,” they say in turn, clinking their goblet against hers. She has an approving sort of expression at their words, and they each drink.

***

“You know,” Weiren muses, a blissful expression on their face as they gaze up at Vicouryn, “I’ve been so unlucky all my life but… I think I finally, for once, feel lucky.”

“Pray tell, why is that?” The queen returns, her hand idly playing with a lock of Weiren’s hair. They’re lying down, now, with their head cushioned on her lap.

“I get to spend this time with you,” The paladin answers with a dazed smile. Vicouryn draws her brows together.

“I can understand the benefits you get from this, but feeling lucky? Out of all the people you could be spending this time with, of all those you could have given yourself to, you have a monster. A vampire,” she replies, shaking her head, “I have come to enjoy our time together as well, but I could imagine any number of better partners for you. Frankly, I still wonder why this hasn’t bothered you, considering your being of a paladin.”

Weiren watches as Vicouryn speaks, tilting their own head in her lap.

“I like that part of you, too,” they say. Vicouryn looks taken aback.

“Really?” she says, disbelieving, “Thanks to my nature I’m cold to the touch and my body is as still as death. Even with my control, I still require blood to survive. Do you not find any of this repulsive?”

Weiren shakes their head slowly and reaches to take ahold of Vicouryn’s hand, which is as chilled as it always is. They pull it closer, pressing it against their face with a little smile.

“No, of course not. I don’t mind the cold, “ Weiren says, turning into her palm, “You’re like a… a cool breeze, or fresh snow. It assures me that it’s you and no one else. I like it.”

There’s a brief silence as Weiren gently burrows into Vicouryn’s hand, holding it close to their face. Their eyes fall closed in contentment.

“And, you know… people of all sorts require different things to survive. You haven’t been hurting anyone over it,” Weiren continues, “You’ve said yourself that you’ve only been subsisting off the Blood Vow, and you don’t take from any of your attendants. You’ve been really considerate in how you take blood, at cost to your own power. Besides, my oath as a paladin is to protect and preserve light and life, and you haven’t done anything against that.”

There’s a slight scoff.

“You are forgetting yourself, Weiren. It doesn’t bother you how frequently I drain  _ you _ ? Perhaps the sensation can be enjoyable but it doesn’t change the fact that I am taking your vitality, over and over again. I even went too far back in Mevaden. I’m sure most would find this despicable,” Vicouryn shoots back.

Weiren’s head lolls left and right, drunkenly disagreeing. Why does she always talk as if she is bad for them?

“No, no,” they say, dragging themself up to sit and face her properly, “I’m happy to give you whatever you need. I told you before that I  _ like _ … being around you. Maybe you don’t… maybe you don’t realize how important this is to me.”

Weiren  _ said  _ that they’ll be Vicouryn’s, but she still doesn’t see their intentions. They reach out their own hand to cup her face lazily, staring into her eyes even if they can’t quite focus on them properly.

“Remember what I said? I’m yours. Only yours,” they whisper, and they lean forward to loosely wrap their arm around her. “You even gave me that scarf to prove it. I want you to take my blood when you can.”

“You said that in regards to our arrangement, Weiren. For physical intimacy,” Vicouryn says, and Weiren can feel her head gently shake, “Right now, you’re inebriated.”

“I just really like being with you,” Weiren mumbles back, “and you being a vampire isn’t a problem. And you said you didn’t want anyone else to have me. I can tell you all of this when I’m sober, too”

“I am simply the first person who offered you touch; obviously you’re just attached because you haven’t had anyone before,” Vicouryn says, and Weiren feels their heart sink a little bit. “Of course I would rather have you to myself; I do not like to share.”

“Maybe,” Weiren says, “but it doesn’t change how much I appreciate you, and that I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else right now.”

The implication that their feelings are fleeting and brief hurts, but honestly Weiren hasn’t had enough experience even having those kinds of feelings to really know, though they’re pretty sure that they’ve been feeling them for a whole month at least. Besides, as if Vicouryn hasn’t expressed attachment before; she really suggested taking Weiren back to Mevaden with her not that long ago. When she was drunk she talked of giving them a higher status and everything they ever could have wanted, doesn’t that mean something, too?

Maybe after she takes some of their drunk blood, she’ll be a little more honest with her feelings.

“Before you might make any claims you may regret, it may be helpful to remember that this arrangement was created to benefit both of us with regards to physical intimacy. As far as I know, you were starved of touch until now, and now you are just chasing those sensations with reckless abandon. You only come to me because there is no one else to turn to, not because you actively like me,” Vicouryn states, “I’m certain whatever feelings you may have are only due to the touch I can give you, and you are merely misreading them.”

“You’re making a lot of assumptions,” Weiren murmurs softly, drawing idle circles on her arm with their finger, “Even if you didn’t touch me I would want to be beside you.”

There’s silence for a bit as their words set in. They don’t know what she thinks about this but maybe that is enough to convince her that Weiren harbors a lot of affection for her. They aren’t trying to confess love or anything but they find it so bewildering that the powerful queen continues to view herself in such a negative light, especially after all she’s done for them. Of course Weiren genuinely likes her. There’s something wonderful about being around her. Even if she isn’t about to kiss them they like her gaze on them.

Weiren turns their head in the embrace, nuzzling against Vicouryn’s shoulder, and presses a slow kiss to it.

Vicouryn just barely flinches, and somewhere in their stupor Weiren remembers, and they pull back.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry,” they say, “I forgot to ask, I’m-”

“It is fine,” Vicouryn cuts in quickly.

“Right, I just… want to show some of my gratitude,” Weiren manages to say, flustered from the misstep, “I wouldn’t leave any marks or anything… just… I know how nice it feels to be… kissed there.”

“Perhaps before that, it may be my turn to have a little sip,” Vicouryn returns, a hand coming up to gently grip their shoulder, “so that you are not the only inebriated one.”

“Right,” Weiren says, a little flushed, “I’ve been going a lot slower, though, and I think I might be good to have a bit more before you take.”

Vicouryn looks at them with narrowed eyes.

“I do not want a repeat of the last time, Weiren,” she warns.

“Of course not,” Weiren answers, “I promise I’m being careful.”

There’s a pause as Vicouryn watches them with a scrutinizing look.

“Then, go ahead,” she says.

Weiren slides off the bed with a surprising amount of control, reaching out to the tray of wine. Even if they do get a bit too drunk, now they kind of know what to expect, and will be able to handle it better, they think. Though a good time has passed, so some of the alcohol has already worked its way through them, and it’s unlikely they’ll be overwhelmed in the same way as last time.

“Do… you want to help me drink it?” Weiren asks after pouring half a cup, trying their best to give a sly look to Vicouryn, who raises a brow and then gives them a small smirk.

“Certainly, that can be done,” she says, gesturing for them to come back. She also adjusts herself, moving a bit more to the edge so that it’s less likely they might spill anything on the sheets.

Now that they’ve stopped talking about feelings and moved on to the physicality of their arrangement, the tension lessens. The queen certainly has a way of dealing with her own emotions. 

At least the intimacy is simple and familiar.

The two of them sit on the side of the bed and Vicouryn takes the goblet from Weiren, swirling it for just a second. Then, while holding Weiren’s gaze, she puts the cup to her lips, taking a long, slow sip. With her free hand she takes ahold of their face, tilting it up and pulling it closer to her. Even if alcohol tastes foul, this makes drinking it worth it. They’ll never get tired of her touching their face in this way.

Like before, their lips meet, and they carefully open their mouths to allow the alcohol to pass between them. Vicouryn is controlled in her motions, but Weiren’s a little loose, and a bit spills from the corner of their mouth again as they swallow. And just like before, Vicouryn reacts by pressing her tongue to their neck to catch the wine and lick back up to their mouth.

Weiren likes that even if they’re wrestling with the taste.

“Thanks,” they whisper with a small smile, “I can get the rest; don’t wanna spill anything.”

“Anytime,” Vicouryn returns with a little smirk.

Weiren downs the rest of the goblet, which isn’t too bad because they only partially filled it.

Oof, they can feel the warmth in their belly from it. Weiren shakes their head a bit while Vicouryn takes the cup back and sets it down on the tray.

“Alright,” they say after a second, “that’s enough for tonight…. probably.”

They’ll have maybe even fewer inhibitions, but that’s okay.

“I’m curious,” Weiren says, “do vampires only drink from the neck?”

“Of course not,” the vampire answers, brushing her hand against their shoulder, “But there are many veins and the flesh is soft here, so it is one of the best places to drink from.”

“Are there other ones too?” Weiren asks inquisitively. What if the queen could touch them elsewhere? They’re not sure where, honestly, but the thought is intriguing.

“Indeed,” Vicouryn returns, “Other suitable locations include here,” she says, and her hand drifts down their arm to take a gentle hold of their wrist, her thumb tracing circular motions on their veins, “though there is another, more intimate place, too. I’m not sure you would want me to take from there, however.”

“Where is it?” The paladin asks, still curious. Where can it be? At that, the queen’s hand rises back up their arm to the side of their chest, fingertips barely grazing them, and then down their front. Weiren stares down at themself, watching as the pale hand drifts further down, dangerously close to the line of their pants. But she quests even further, though respectfully bypassing anything  _ too  _ intimate, and her hand crosses the threshold of their pelvis before coming to rest on a sensitive inner thigh.

“There’s an artery here,” she whispers, leaning closer to them as they process what’s happening, “Quite a lot of blood runs through it.”

Oh my.

Weiren’s aware of a faint fear mixed with anticipation that settles in them. Her touch on that area is so gentle and it feels pretty damn nice.

What if she did bite them there? Weiren’s drunk enough that they aren’t so apprehensive about it, and also it would be far easier a bite to hide than the ones on their neck.

“But I would not request this of you if you are not comfortable with it,” Vicouryn’s saying when they come out of their brief stupor.

“Let’s try it,” Weiren says, prompting a brief look of surprise from the queen.

“Are you certain?” She asks carefully, looking at them appraisingly. “Though I will not cross any further boundaries than a draining there; I do require your proper consent for anything new.”

“Y-yea,” Weiren says, licking their lips. Maybe they should have some water. The idea of crossing the few boundaries left that they haven’t is quite a thought, sending more heat to their already alcohol-red face. They suppose that’s the issue with drinking; it makes it harder to properly discuss and consent in the moment. “I’d like to try it there. After that we can go back to usual stuff.”

A look crosses over Vicouryn’s face, but it’s hard for them to really pick it out.

“I’ll need you to sit back, then,” she says, a little husky, “and clear the way for me.” Weiren nods, wordlessly shuffling back to find a better position. 

“D-do you need like, the whole…” Weiren trails off, looking down at their legs, now beginning to fluster significantly as they get closer to the draining.

“No, just the one area, however is most comfortable for you,” she returns with her piercing gaze. 

Obviously Weiren won’t be fully exposed, they have their undergarments on underneath the fine pants, but it’s still a daunting task. Even if it is daunting, however, they find they really are curious to see how it will feel. It will only be for a short while, anyway.

The paladin unfastens the buttons on their trousers, trying very hard to focus on it and not the fact that Vicouryn is actively watching them do this. Then, as best they can manage, they slide them off, keeping one leg in and just pulling the other entirely out. They can see the layer of brown hair interspersed with even more scars from battle all down their leg.

“Lean back, Weiren,” Vicouryn says as she comes closer, “I will take over from here.”

Ohhh gods. She comes forward and loops her right arm underneath Weiren’s knee, letting it rest on her bicep as she lifts her arm just a bit, consequently raising their bent leg to better expose their thigh. Weiren feels like there might be tiny explosions going on their head as they stare, their eyes somehow both wide with anticipation and a bit dazed from drunkenness. As Vicouryn lifts their leg, her other hand comes to rest on their skin, sending sparks of electricity through their body. Certainly no one has  _ ever  _ touched that area before, and the temperature difference is a lot more stark. Weiren shivers just a bit as her fingers drift lazily across their flesh, either just to give them sensation or find the particular vein she mentioned previously. Somehow Weiren realizes that their breathing has gotten heavier, perhaps from the stress of the incoming draining in such an intimate place.

Vicouryn shifts even closer, forcing Weiren’s leg up a bit more and them to sink down as she now leans over them, still with her fingers brushing against them. Weiren gasps a bit at the shift, and they think they might see a hint of a smile in Vicouryn’s face.

“I will make this pleasurable, so relax if you can,” the vampire says softly, reaching out to gently brush the side of their face before returning her hand back to their thigh, and then she leans her head down, her soft hair tickling their skin.

Weiren knows it’s coming but they can’t help but flinch just the slightest bit as Vicouryn presses a gentle kiss to their leg; it’s so incredibly intimate and they feel so sensitive that the sensation is really taking them for a spin. Too late they realize they let out a little moan and they reach up to press their hand to their mouth, mortified as the queen smirks against them, but she doesn’t say anything, merely letting her eyes flick up to see their reddened face. Weiren has to glance away, unable to handle the gaze in this very moment. 

They can feel as she moves a little higher on their thigh, mouthing gently at their skin with practiced kisses, and there must certainly be a few moments in which she licks at them too, which is definitely not lost on them even in their drunken state. However, she doesn’t continue for much longer, and it’s only a half minute before they feel her mouth stretch wide and then close down on them, her fangs piercing their flesh. Weiren’s certainly glad they’d covered their mouth already, otherwise there might have been a sound that came out that would have been very embarrassing.

Just as steadily as they are now used to, Vicouryn drinks their blood, her hand firmly pressed to the side of their thigh as she does so. Even if it’s in an unfamiliar place, the loss of blood itself is familiar, and Weiren sighs as their body relaxes after the initial tension from pain, letting themself focus on the sensations: the cold on their thigh, though some of their body heat must be warming up Vicouryn at least a bit, the pressure holding up their leg, and the slight motions of Vicouryn’s mouth and throat as she swallows their blood. They feel themself become a bit drowsier as the seconds tick on, both the wine taking more of an effect and their blood leaving their body.

Even though she is drinking, she does not do it for long. It is a short and minor draining, same as the last two, as Vicouryn controls it so as not to put them in any danger. Weiren may be curious about the effects of drunkenness but they know that alcohol can kill, even if they can neutralize the poison they would rather not dance on that line of death. They will not be putting themself beyond a simple, reasonable drunk state, especially when drained of blood, and they aren’t really interested in seeing themself perish due to alcohol poisoning.

Vicouryn releases them from her fangs, but as they’ve come to expect, she takes her time to tend to the wound, not letting any of their blood drip down, and these are the ministrations that force them to clamp their hand on their mouth a little tighter. She deliberately licks up any drips with a playful tongue and plants short kisses on them, leaving them even more flustered. Weiren doesn’t know how much of this they can take; it’s so overwhelmingly intimate.

“I wonder if you might also like a mark of a different sort down here,” Vicouryn says, breathing against the wound where she’d licked, sending a brief chill through them. Weiren’s mind reels; can they even handle that?

How can Vicouryn not think Weiren likes her if she keeps doing all of these things to them? Who wouldn’t feel affection for someone who keeps giving them kindness and pleasure in this way?

The vampire looks up at Weiren, who still has their mouth covered in embarrassment. She’s still waiting for an answer.

Against their better judgement, Weiren nods their head, and the queen smiles, tilting her head to press her face against their thigh with a teasing look.

“Of course you do,” she says with a glint in her eyes, “you did say you were  _ all  _ mine. I wonder if that means I can mark you wherever I want?” With that, she reaches forward and grips Weiren’s hips, pulling them forward so that they fall from their sitting position to a more prone one, their leg still propped up on her shoulder as she leans more over them. Now they’re looking up at her, a bit out of breath from the unexpected motion, and a much clearer view of Vicouryn as she smiles deviously down at them, still with her cheek leaned against their leg. Their hands have fallen from their mouth to brace themself on the bed.

Weiren won’t lie, they do feel a mild discomfort at the attention, but that’s natural for anyone being put in an exposed position, and they find that they’re thrilled by her dark look. They guess she always does seem to enjoy wielding this kind of control over them, and they do, too. Vulnerability is always uncomfortable at first, after all.

“You can better watch, this way,” Vicouryn says, and her hands move to drift up and down their thigh, dancing dangerously close to the bottom of their undergarments, but never venturing too far. Her left hand rises high, almost to their knee, and then she curls her fingers to rest the tips of her fingernails to them and drag down, giving a delicious sensation as she does so. Of course she does not press hard enough to scratch, only to give them a gentle grazing tickle. She watches their reaction as they briefly stiffen at her touch, eyes closing as they gasp, and then she presses her mouth to them, though a few inches away from where she bit them, and she begins the process of marking them yet again. It’s a process they’ve gotten quite familiar with by now, and they enjoy every second of it.

Weiren almost wishes their heart would beat louder so they didn’t have to hear the sounds of Vicouryn laving at their skin; it’s practically silent otherwise. The sensations feel strangely amplified by the alcohol. Even if their mind is a little dulled there’s a bit of a difference to the pleasure than when they’re completely sober. They wonder how they might feel about this if they weren’t drunk right now, but they’re pretty sure they would still enjoy it. Even if they’re practically unmoving there’s a sway to their vision, as if they’re gently letting their head roll from side to side just the slightest bit. It’s a weirdly relaxing feeling, and despite what Vicouryn is doing they feel their muscles go a little lax, though a particularly hard suck lets another little vocal gasp escape their mouth.

Finally she’s done, her lips pulling away from their thigh with a slight sound as she slowly lowers it from her shoulder. The spot she worked on tingles with the release of pressure, and Weiren breathes in relief.

“I hope you enjoyed that,” Vicouryn says, sweeping her hair back behind her shoulders with a bit a triumphant smirk. Weiren sees the slightest, barest hint of a flush on her cheeks, and they think maybe now she’s feeling the alcohol too.

“I did,” they return, nearly forgetting to put their pants back on, “a lot. But now it’s my turn to give you some attention, right?” They ask courageously, pushing away their fluster.

“Hm.” The queen glances away for a second, “I guess we did say you could.”

Weiren sits up, embarrassment at their previous experience fading in lieu of the rare possibility that they might be able to tend to Vicouryn in the way she does them.

“Just a bit,” Weiren assures, “and we can stop as soon as you want. Just say the word.” 

Vicouryn merely regards them and inclines her head down once, and waits.

_ Okay, here goes _ .

Weiren lets out a single exhale, and then leans forward. They really don’t have anything to go off of other than recalling what she’s done to them, and they have a decent memory, so hopefully it’ll be enough. They reach, letting a hand curl around her upper arm, and their other coming to rest on the side of her neck, keeping their touch as light as they can manage. Tonight she’s wearing a simple sleeveless gown. Previously she wore a plain black capelet, but it’s been removed, so her shoulders and neck are exposed.

They start at her shoulder, letting their lips graze her skin as they use their hand to drift up and down, gently caressing Vicouryn’s arm. For a bit it’s just light, teasing touches, and then that gives way to full kisses, them pressing their lips against her in as sensual a way they can muster, trying to give her the soft and delicate touches that they have come to love. 

Weiren feels Vicouryn shift as she tilts her head away to allow them a bit more space. A quick glance up reveals she’s closed her eyes, but it seems like there’s a slight crease at her brow. She might be feeling uncomfortable, still. That saddens Weiren, they wish she too could simply relax and enjoy what is a pleasurable touch, without fear of losing control over the situation.

“Should I stop?” They whisper against her, their warm breath gusting out across her skin, and Weiren thinks they can feel a shiver run down  _ her  _ back.

“No,” Vicouryn answers, opening her eyes to glance down at them, “But I should occupy my hands as well, perhaps with removing that tunic of yours.”

Weiren blinks up at her, still with their face hovering so close to her. They’ve never fully taken off their top before but they suppose now is as good a time as any. The queen does not do well with idling, so hopefully it’ll help.

“Oh! Um, sure,” they reply, withdrawing for a second. Almost immediately her hands are upon them, unfastening the buttons of their shirt with ease, though there’s a few seconds where her fingers aren’t as controlled, perhaps due to her now being inebriated. They’re used to this disrobing by now, and it’s only a short while before their sleeves are pulled off and away, and their tunic is left on the sheets beside them. Certainly they feel exposed, but for her they don’t really mind. 

They’re aware of her assessing gaze on them, now finally seeing their fully unclothed torso for the first time, and despite the courage of alcohol they have to look away and fight the urge to try and cross their arms. They wonder if perhaps them being exposed in this way while she is not allows her to feel like she still has enough control.

“There is no need to be embarrassed,” Vicouryn says, and they can hear a very low and dark tone in her voice as she looks them up and down. Hopefully they look appealing? Maybe? Perhaps the vague muscle definition and scars they’ve gotten over the years are some kind of attractive?

“Is this okay?” Weiren asks, bringing their eyes back to her and glancing back down at Vicouryn’s shoulder.

“It is perfect, Weiren. Come, return,” she says, and they can hear what must be desire, at least they hope, in her voice.

They resume, leaning forward again to reunite their lips with her skin, wanting to do well. This time, Vicouryn does not stay still and her own arms come around them loosely, her fingers dancing lightly across their bare back. Weiren almost wants to just stop and languish in her touch but no, she deserves some affection, too.

So they keep at it, using their own hands and mouth to stroke at her collarbone. Vicouryn changes her own motions and lets her hands drift down, tickling their sensitive sides as they try to kiss farther up her neck. Their hand on the other side of her neck rises to brush hair behind her ear and run down her back.

It’s when Weiren reaches her ear that they realize Vicouryn’s hands have slowed in their motions, and with a small peck on her earlobe, she takes in a sharp breath of air.

Weiren, somehow in their drunkenness, realizes what this could mean, and they kiss it again, this time pulling it between their lips and nibbling just the slightest bit. Vicouryn reacts, her body tensing as her fingers begin to curl against their back. Weiren moves higher, letting their lips drag up across the length of her ear, leaving behind small kisses all the way, and then, feeling bold, lets the tip of their tongue trail back down the same way, all the while exhaling against her.

The reaction is noticeable, and they can feel Vicouryn gripping them tighter as her breaths get a little louder. Weiren can’t believe what they’ve discovered. Not wanting to just target the one area yet, they lower their mouth, back to her jaw and neck, peppering her with what they hope are soft and pleasant kisses that feel nice. They travel across her collarbone to the other side, and by this point Vicouryn has just stopped her own ministrations, hands unmoving but her breaths uneven as Weiren takes their time to give her the same care she has for them. They think it’s a good sign, maybe? After a pause she begins to move again, her hands rising to entangle in Weiren’s hair as they begin the ascent back up her neck, though this time on the other side.

“You,” she says, almost as a gasp, “are doing very well.”

Weiren feels a flutter of joy in their chest; she is actually enjoying what they’re doing!

“That’s good to hear,” they murmur against her skin before pressing another soft kiss to the side of her neck, “I’m glad.” 

The paladin wraps their own arms more firmly around her, pulling her even closer as they continue to give her the attention she deserves. Their motions become a little more messy due to inebriation but hopefully it’s still good.

As the two of them get even closer, Vicouryn’s head leans into the crook of Weiren’s shoulder, where they can feel her breaths hit their skin, giving them a very clear way to read her reactions. Her fingers in their hair curl even more as she grips them. Weiren rises still, tilting their head up so that they can gently peck at her sensitive ear and trace up the bottom of it with a light touch of tongue. As they do so they can feel Vicouryn tense again, more gasps coming against them, and they wonder if they would have ever been able to get such a reaction if she wasn’t drunk right now. It seems her own control over her behavior is a little loose, just like them.

Weiren kisses back from her ear towards her cheek, and Vicouryn responds, both of them leaning their heads back so that they can now let their lips meet, and this time it feels like Vicouryn is moving with a desperation they haven’t seen before, even more than the few times she felt she needed to re-assert her control.

Drunkenly but passionately, they cling to each other and kiss, over and over, performing the same dance they’ve done before but this time it’s raw and messy. Even the normally perfectly stoic Vicouryn acts with pure desire, caring less and less about concealing her emotions and more about holding onto Weiren, the one who gave themself to her, perhaps in more ways than one but who can really know?

Vicouryn leans against them, and they fall back, allowing her to practically kiss them down to a prone position, her hands unable to decide if they should grasp at their hands or tangle in their hair before just settling with pressing them into the bed on either side of their head.

“You keep-,” she gasps, breaking away from them, looking down at them with now barely flushed cheeks of her own, “-you keep saying you like me beyond this. I still- I do not understand  _ why _ .”

Weiren has to take a second, breathing hard to recover air and trying to comprehend the words she’s saying.

“I-I do,” they answer, reaching up a hand to brush against the side of her face, and then she’s leaning back down to kiss them again, just for a few seconds. “You’re- you’re confident, and- and unafraid to pursue your goals,” they gasp as she takes their hand in hers and presses a kiss to their fingers. “You’re so… considerate to me. You- you  _ helped  _ me and I’m so… so grateful-” They’re cut off by another kiss, but this one is deep and aggressive and she’s reaching far inside them, almost as if she can’t quite handle hearing what they’re saying and has to seal away their voice for a second. Then she breaks away, leaving them panting and eyes even more lidded than before, a dark and predatory look in her own gaze.

“And I’m a vampire,” she says, “Dangerous. Possessive. Controlling. I’m cruel when necessary. We haven’t even known each other all that long but surely you cannot forget all of these things.” 

“That’s okay,” Weiren breathes, “I’m a coward, and weak, and I don’t have much confidence. We all- we are all made of these different things that we view as good or bad. Even if you call yourself these things you have been nothing but kind and accepting to me.”

Vicouryn makes some kind of a scoff. The paladin frowns.

“You said I was unable to accept compliments,” Weiren says breathily, “and yet, here you are ignoring everything I find likeable about you.” Their voice is a little slurred but they’re trying their best to convey the intent.

The queen looks down at them, eyes narrowed at their words.

“Is it so hard to believe that I just enjoy being by your side and spending time with you?” Weiren asks, tilting their head. “I gave myself to you for more than just this.” The words slip out, unfettered by their usual filters, and they aren’t really aware how close their words sound to a confession.

Vicouryn quietly lowers her head again, coming closer to them again, the slight red tinge to her face visible even in the darkness.

“I’ll need to hear this all again in the morning,” she says softly, no longer protesting their words, “So I can be sure that this isn't just the alcohol talking.”

“Gladly,” Weiren returns, “I’ll say it as many times as I need,” and Vicouryn closes the distance between their lips again, but this time it’s soft and it’s different from before. She curls a hand behind their head, and rests the other gently on the slope of their neck, touching them with care as they both relax into this kiss. Weiren reaches up to wrap their arms around her again, pulling her closer until the distance between their bodies is gone, and they’re flush against each other again.

“I- I think you’re a fool for this,” Vicouryn says after breaking apart from Weiren, “Just as I am a fool for allowing you to come so close.”

“Your fool,” Weiren laughs with a smile, “Don’t forget that I’m yours.”

“That, too,” she returns, shaking her head, “dangerous and foolish to say. But I suppose you are right, since you did offer yourself to me.”

“You wanted me,” Weiren says slyly, their grin widening, “You wanted me so much you put all your marks on me.”

“Perhaps,” the vampire says, and she ducks back down to kiss them again, “I  _ am  _ quite fond of you, after all. I hope you will be visiting Mevaden after your next journey.”

Oh, she said she was fond of them! Weiren feels their cheeks warm even more.

“If… if this war ever ends I would like to…” they respond, “I don’t… I don’t really have anywhere else to return to anyway.” They wonder how serious she’s being; it’d be a dream. Maybe Mevaden wouldn’t become home, but having somewhere to go to where someone would wait for them sounds… wonderful.

“You will always be welcome, especially as a Waywatcher,” she says, “and a personal guest of mine. If you ever find you tire of adventuring out in the wilds, there will be a place for you in Mevaden. I will make sure of it.”

Weiren pulls her closer into a deep embrace, a sense of contentedness and giddiness in them.

“Thank you,” they whisper, burying their face into her shoulder. That’s practically all they wanted; the knowledge that they can come see her again even if they must leave her so soon.

“Since you claim to like me so much, I  _ am  _ expecting several visits,” she says, and her hand strokes down the side of their head in a comforting gesture.

“As many as I can manage,” Weiren returns, sighing happily.

“You’ll come to my chambers every night at least,” she says, and Weiren thinks she’s now saying things she probably never would, at least not phrased like this, if she were sober, “We will do many things in each other’s company, but overall  _ I’ll  _ do many things to  _ you, _ ” she leans closer to their ear to whisper this, “As I mentioned before, as long as you desire it, I will have you, and I will make sure you do not forget.”

She says these words right against them, her cold breath hitting their ear and sending tingles down their body. A soft touch presses against their earlobe and they gasp.

“An effective place to touch,” she murmurs, “And now I will use it on you.” Oh, gods, Weiren thinks, they’d found something she liked and now she’s turning it onto them. Not that they mind; the sensation is amazing. Vicouryn nibbles gently at their earlobe.

“C-copycat,” Weiren breathes, “ah!”

“I’ll never tire of your sounds,” she says, brushing aside their comment, “they’re music to my ears.” The vampire licks up the side of their ear to mouth at the tip, drawing forth more gasps from them. Then they become aware that she’s shifting, drawing her knees forward to prop herself up a bit and create some space between their bodies. A hand brushes at their stomach and then rises up to their pectoral, finding their sensitive spots as Vicouryn keeps up her motions, dropping down from their ear to their neck, what must be her favorite part of them considering how many marks she’s left behind, be it vampiric or not.

“G-glad you like them,” they manage to reply, and Vicouryn laughs.

“I’m sure I’ll be hearing them much more in the future,” she says, voice dark and amused and a bit slow from alcohol.

“I can’t believe you keep saying things like that,” Weiren returns, blushing hard as Vicouryn withdraws to look down at them.

“I was under the impression you liked the things I say and do to you.” She makes a smug expression, though her eyes are partially lidded and her cheeks a bit flushed from drink.

“Well, yea,” Weiren says back, turning their head away in slight embarrassment, “But still.”

“Then I will not stop,” she says. Vicouryn takes Weiren’s face with a free hand and tilts it back to look up at her, “I will do things to you until there is nothing but me left in that mind of yours.”

There’s a second as they look at each other, Vicouryn challenging them with these words.

“Sounds to me like  _ I’m  _ the only thing on your mind,” Weiren teases boldly, and the queen raises her brows.

“Perhaps,” she says, and then she’s kissing them all over again, and they’re lost in each other well into the night.

***

When Weiren wakes up, they’re surprised to find that they have a certain Queen Vicouryn in their arms with hers draped loosely around them, her head tucked under their chin and her body pressed right against them.

For once, they’re the one holding her.

Also, their shirt is gone.

Oh gods.

Oh wait, their pants are on. Good.

All of the things they said and did with her come rushing back, and Weiren doesn’t know what to think.

They… practically confessed to having a deep attachment to Vicouryn, but they didn’t say any danger words in particular like ‘love’, and they promised they’d say it again when sober, that they like to be by her.

That isn’t so bad, especially if it got Vicouryn to stop thinking that she’s so dangerous for them.

Gods, though. They did say that.

They find that they’re mostly glad about it. It’s true, and they think the reverse is true, too. Vicouryn said she liked their time together, and she even said she was fond of them. 

That couldn’t have been just alcohol, right? That had to have been her genuine feelings over them, right?

She said she’d keep a space open for them in Mevaden, too.

Weiren sighs in relief, hugging Vicouryn’s form a little closer. Now they just have to pray that she remembers everything and that it’s all true.

There’s a second, and then the body in their arm shifts, reacting to the squeeze, and her arms around them tighten, too. Oh, Weiren might die from this embrace. Barely awake and holding onto each other, almost as if they were a couple who spent the night together. Imagine if she woke them with a kiss...

“Hm.” There’s a soft voice, a hum against their chest, and Vicouryn moves, lifting her head to look around, blinking sleepily at her surroundings. They’ve  _ never  _ seen this kind of expression on her before.

It’s… adorable...

Weiren’s shocked; did they wake from their alcohol-induced sleep just in time before her? 

Her eyes fall on them, squinting and they hastily move their arms away, not certain if she actually wants them on her.

There’s a flash in her gaze, as she realizes what’s happened. Weiren’s briefly terrified that she’ll be upset at having been so vulnerable, even if for only a short time.

“No wonder it’s so warm,” she mutters instead, drawing herself up and off them, shaking her head, perhaps to clear her own groggy mind.

“M-morning,” Weiren says hesitantly, “Are you feeling alright?”

The vampire sits up, brushing her hair back into place before glancing back at them, an impassive expression on her face.

“I am fine,” she returns, “I did not think  _ I  _ would fall asleep.” She sounds a little indignant as she says it, unapproving of her actions, “But I suppose waking alongside someone such as yourself is not so unpleasant.”

She looks away as she says that last part, focused on untangling any knots from her hair. Weiren wonders if there might be the slightest red tinge to the tip of her ear, but it’s too dark to really say. 

And she wasn’t upset at being too openly vulnerable around them. Maybe she’s comfortable enough with them that it’s okay now?

“I…” Weiren starts, unsure how to bring up their words from before, “I liked waking with you,” they say, settling with this first and then maybe working their way up to it.

“It seems you like many things about me,” Vicouryn returns, sending them a look with a creased brow, “You said as much last night.”

“Right, I said I’d tell you everything again when I’m sober,” Weiren says, nodding, reaching a hand to the back of their neck as they try to recall everything they said. Vicouryn regards them, watching with her hawklike eyes, waiting, as if she’s ready for them to dismiss what they’d said. 

Weiren extends a palm to her, wanting to have a little contact, and she returns her own hand, settling it down in theirs. Phew, they feel relief. Even if she said a lot of things while drunk they don’t know how much she means them.

Weiren takes her hand in both of theirs, silently mulling over their words as they trace gentle circles into the back of her hand.

“There are a lot of things I find wonderful about you,” they start, “Like your confidence and courage. You don’t let fear stop you from anything. You’re unafraid to pursue your goals.” 

They pause, and look up to match her gaze, their cheeks warm.

“You’re so strong and yet you’ve been so gentle to me. You’ve been so kind and considerate and I appreciate it so much. Even if there’s things about you that you think are bad or dangerous… I  _ like  _ you. I like everything about you, good or bad, and I like to spend time with you. I want to keep spending time with you, whether it be for touch or not.”

Weiren stops for a second, breathing as adrenaline kicks in from their personal words. It’s a lot. But they told her they’d say it again, so they will, because she has to know that Weiren doesn’t mind if she’s a vampire or whatever.

_ She has to know how much I like her. _

“I… gave you myself for more than just this,” they repeat, “Beyond just touch, I’d like to be able to just be by your side. I want to help you in whatever way I can.”

Weiren feels like they’re dancing so precariously on the edge of confessing love, which they’re trying not to, because that’s something that’s too terrifying to even consider as a possibility for the future. They just want her to know that they  _ care _ , vampirism and cold demeanor included.

They aren’t expecting any reciprocation, but at the very least they hope she can acknowledge it. 

Now at a loss for words, they can feel anxiety roil and mount inside them, until their breathing is quick and they are aware that now their hands are just about to tremble. They want to look away in fear but they know she will be considerate as she always is to them, and they want to trust her.

Gods.

“Thank you,” Vicouryn finally says, after a long, long pause, “for telling this to me.” Weiren exhales, staring at her. Her other hand comes to rest atop theirs. “I… appreciate your willingness to express this to me, and I will tell you again, as well, as it is only fair. I  _ am  _ fond of you and your time, and I can see your words are truth. So I will accept your sentiment; we are partners, and companions, after all.”

Weiren feels their shoulders sag in relief as she speaks. Her hand moves forward from theirs and towards them, and reaches to cup their face. Immediately they lean into it, tension leaving their body at her acceptance and acknowledgement, relishing in the cold touch that has comforted them many times before.

“What I offered still stands, as well. Mevaden will welcome you should you find yourself wanting to visit, or even to stay,” she says, watching them, “I would enjoy your company.”

“And I, yours,” Weiren says softly, holding her hand to their face. Feeling sentimental, they turn and kiss her palm. Now that Vicouryn’s responded positively, they feel their nervousness melt away, leaving nothing but happiness and affection. Gods, they really are so lucky, and now she realizes how much they like her, except they don’t even know how to quantify it themself. But this is enough for them.

Vicouryn has a bit of a surprised look at their genuine display of affection, and maybe even a hint of a flush.

They pull her towards them next, wanting to hug again, and she does not resist, instead reciprocating by opening her arms and letting them come against her.

_ I like you, I like you, I like you. _

Weiren holds her close, pressing their head against her shoulder, smiling against her skin as she in turn holds them, hands wrapped around their bare back, firm and reassuring.

“You are quite pleasant to hold,” the vampire murmurs gently, her voice close to their ear.

“And I like when you hold me,” Weiren returns, giving her another soft kiss on her neck, “so much.”

“Tell me what else you enjoy of what I do,” Vicouryn says, “What do you enjoy the most?”

“Everything,” Weiren answers, and the vampire laughs, her chest thrumming with the motion, “I love everything. When you talk with me, when you kiss me, when you drain me… all of it.”

Oh the word slipped out… but maybe it’s okay. They’re too giddy to stop it from going.

“You sound like you’re smitten, Weiren,” Vicouryn says, a little amused, and Weiren thinks it might be true, their emotions feel so big. So many times they’ve thought of something more romantic only to shove it away, left to gather dust in the corners of their brain. But at least they have this?

“Maybe,” they say back, just letting themself sink into the hug.

There’s a brief pause as she takes that in. Weiren doesn’t really know.

_ Sounds to me like I'm the only thing on your mind,  _ they said last night, brave and teasing and challenging.

_ Perhaps,  _ Vicouryn returned, not confirming nor denying. 

Weiren wonders how much she thinks of them. How likely is it that the queen has similar ambiguous feelings?

“I appreciate when you talk with me as well, and your touch and your blood has been quite beneficial,” she returns, echoing what they said. Her hand dances up to the crown of their head to run down their hair like she always does, and they feel like they melt even more, cold fingers combing through their locks and grazing their scalp, sending tingles down their back. It’s no rejection to the prospect of them harboring possible feelings, at least.

“I’m happy that you feel this way,” the paladin whispers.

Vicouryn sets a hand on their shoulder, applying a faint pressure to push them away just the slightest bit, creating some space between them and allowing them to look at each other again.

“Of course I do,” she says, gazing down, “We both know how much you wanted to be mine, and I certainly wanted it as well.”

The hand slides up to their face again, fingers curling around their jaw and under their chin, tilting their face upwards so that she can bring hers down to kiss them. They have done this so many times but again this one feels different from the others. It’s so soft and gentle and sends butterflies flitting about in Weiren’s stomach. They wonder if those words imply more emotion than just their arrangement of touch, and they wish it does, but they suspect it doesn’t. They can barely imagine the queen ever expressing her affection for someone like that.

Either way it feels like Vicouryn is kissing them as if she did like them that way, not just to claim them and showcase her power but to send them affection and let them know she treasures them. How nice it would be if it was true... But even if it isn’t, Weiren just languishes in the kiss, happy to feel it and happy to share it with her; it is just that wonderful.

Confessions well and burst in their throat, like bubbles unable to rise quite high enough, disappearing before breaking free from its source and ascending to the sky. They’ve already said so many things; they aren’t sure if they can say anymore. But maybe they don’t even need to say it, because she’s already kissing them like this without it. What will a queen even do with the affection, the ‘ _ love _ ’ of an adventurer that’s formed only after just a bit more than a single month? They should wait, and be sure, at the very least, but who knows what surety of love feels like? Can they even say what they’re feeling is something more than infatuation? Who knows if saying anything will even change the situation? Certainly whatever they do with her must remain a secret, confined to her dark rooms, even if they long to one day walk under the sky with her, fingers interlocked with one another.

Well… at least Weiren has time, as long as they survive the war. Their lifespan will be long, perhaps not as long as the queen’s, but long enough to ruminate over their feelings and figure out how to proceed later. They’ll certainly have many chances to come back to her again in the future.

But gods, why must the words want to spill so badly  _ now _ ?

Vicouryn has already said she is fond of them, and that she wants them to be hers, and shouldn’t that be enough? They’re already hers anyway, somehow.

_ I like you, I love you, I like you. _

Why can’t their thoughts just stop? As if on loop, they keep hearing the words, their emotions morphing and shifting as they think of how content they are when they’re around her. All of these feelings and they don’t know if they can share them...

The kiss ends, and the two of them breathe, staring into each other’s eyes. Weiren forces the words to dissipate, blocking them from rising higher, and they instead opt to kiss her back.

Vicouryn accepts this, and they share many more, entwined together until dawn breaks.


	20. Until We Meet Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiren and Vicouryn share a final meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posts 5 hrs early bc i am impatient  
> well there is the lightest, super mild bondage in this chapter so uh. now u know. some uh. orgasms. 🙈

Just about all of the preparations to leave tomorrow morning are complete. The Crystal Concord has done all their errands and finished their business in Gedal, though Weiren has one last thing to take care of. This is their final night in Gedal after all, and that means it’s their last chance to see Queen Vicouryn. Somehow she’s come to mean so much to them, and after this, it will likely be a long,  _ long  _ time until they can meet again. Last time it was a month. This time it could be several. Weiren doesn’t know how bad things are in Vangath; it’s quite likely that their enemies will recognize and find them and throw them behind bars, or perhaps they’re just a loose end that a few people will like to tie off.

Though Weiren knows it’s good to be optimistic for the future—they’re stronger now, and have more allies—they are worried that this will be their last chance with Vicouryn,  _ ever _ . Even if they’re more powerful, they’ll be in enemy territory, and the leaders of those enemies are very, very dangerous. Not to mention how frequently they apparently end up as a war prisoner. It’s also very likely that if those in Vangath get a hold of them, they’ll be shipped off to Ana Arkova alongside their friends. No one really knows how deeply Brauven and Vangath are connected, but if Empress Arkova has been talking directly with the Archbishop, it does not bode well.

This is why Weiren isn’t sure how they should deal with their feelings. They don’t want to throw any emotions at Vicouryn if she doesn’t want them, but they want to tell her  _ something,  _ even more than they did last night, because it may very well be the only time they’ll be able to. But maybe what they said last night will be enough…

***

Weiren goes to the library earlier than usual, a box and their writing materials on hand.

They want to leave a note with their gift, but they have no idea what to write. Is it too corny to leave behind a message? It just feels like it’ll be the right thing to do. Weiren feels like  _ they  _ would appreciate it, so maybe she will, too.

They just need to figure out what to write…

What can they say, what should they say? What things should they write if they won't say them out loud? 

They’ve gone through so many pages already, quill scratching with uncertainty under the candlelight. So many emotions, so many feelings, and they can’t figure out how to put them on the page. What would she even want to read in a note from them? How much does she even  _ want  _ a note from them?

Weiren keeps at it for a time, until they’ve scraped together something decent. This parchment is folded and placed inside the box of their gift, and Weiren slides the whole thing back into their bag. Hopefully they’ll be able to give it to her with no issue, but there’s a strange anxiety that flits about in their head over it. The only thing they’ve given her is  _ them  _ and this will be the first time they give her an actual, proper gift. A farewell gift, too, they think a little sadly. They don’t know if she’ll like it, but they think she might. They hope she does.

***

As they have several times before, Weiren follows Vicouryn into her chambers, and all they can think about is how they have to make sure they enjoy whatever happens as much as possible, because it is the last time they’ll be able to do this kind of thing for quite some time. Their fears over giving a present to Vicouryn are pushed aside for now; they’ll give it to her in the morning, just before they leave.

“We will have to make this night one you cannot forget,” Vicouryn says as the door shuts behind them. She reaches for their hands and easily threads her fingers through theirs as she presses them against the door, holding them close to it. This sensation, in particular, where their hands are entwined so tightly, is one Weiren likes quite a bit, because it feels more intimate.

“Yea,” the paladin breathes in response, tilting their head up just a bit to match the queen’s gaze. Gods, her eyes are always so dark and mysterious.

“We both know you like to be under my control, hm?” She says softly, leaning a bit closer, “Being held down like this is something you  _ enjoy  _ .”

The heat rises to their face but it’s a well-established fact at this point.

“I do,” Weiren affirms, holding their ground, and the vampire smiles. She gives them a quick and light kiss on their lips, and their eyes fall closed for that moment.

“I like that about you, but perhaps we can take it just a step further, Weiren,” she returns, and she pulls her hands free to start removing some of their clothes, undoing fastenings and buttons as they blink their eyes open and look down at her practiced hands. The layers come off one by one: the coat, and then the vest, and even the undershirt, but the scarf is left to hang loosely around their bare neck. Weiren’s bag and clothes are placed gently on the chaise lounge.

“How so?” Weiren asks, even if they have a sneaking suspicion.

“Remember, I said there can be more uses for this gift,” she says, hooking a finger under the scarf and pulling it off of them, leaving their torso completely exposed, “If you desire, I will tie you down, and that would give my hands a bit more freedom to do more to you.”

Oh yes, that is what they were guessing, and it sends another thrill down their spine.

“That sounds nice,” Weiren says, anticipation building as Vicouryn puts a gentle hand on their elbow to lead them towards the bed.

“I thought you might like that,” the vampire says with a knowing tone in her voice, and Weiren ducks their head a little shyly.

“But I wonder if you like having me under your control even more,” they say playfully, and she laughs.

“I have thought of doing  _ this  _ to you for several days already, so I am  _ quite  _ glad that you are open to it.” The vampire sends them another dark smile.

Gods, days! When did she first think of such a thing?

With Vicouryn's guidance they climb onto the bed, and she directs them to sit in the center against the headboard and pillows. The wooden frame is carved with elegant swirls and patterns, leaving some holes, so there are quite a number of places for something to be tied to.

“Raise your arms,” she commands, though still with a gentle and patient tone, “Hold your wrists over your head, one on the other.”

Weiren is good at following instructions, so they do as she says, placing their hands appropriately as she comes towards them with that dark red scarf. She hums in a pleased manner as she loops it around their wrists and through the openings in the wooden headboard.

“Tell me if it is uncomfortable at all,” she says as she ties a thick knot, securing them to the headboard and allowing them to relax their arms, “And if there is  _ ever  _ a point in time when you want to stop, you  _ must  _ tell me.”

Weiren tests the bonds, flexing their fists and tugging just a bit, but the cloth is so soft it doesn’t hurt at all.

“It’s comfortable,” they say, “And I will.”

“Good,” Vicouryn returns, and she sits back to assess her work.

Weiren blushes more under this particular gaze, half exposed and now tied down, even if it’s a bond they can probably break fairly easily. Her eyes flick over every part of them, from their clothed legs to their bare, marked torso, their bound hands and their burning face. They can’t possibly imagine how they look right now, but Vicouryn is drinking in this sight as if it’s fresh blood.

“Exquisite,” she muses, and she draws a hand up their leg until it reaches the hem of their fine pants, where her index finger plucks at the edge once. She looks at them with a questioning, burning gaze. “I can also remove this layer, if you are comfortable with it. I know you did enjoy touch there, but there is no obligation to expose yourself again if you do not wish to.”

That thought is another dangerous one, but they’ve kind of partially done it before, and as long as they have their last line of defense on, it seems exciting. And it’s true, the thigh did turn out to be surprisingly sensitive during their last meeting.

“S-sure,” the paladin says through a dry throat, and she nods.

Slowly, carefully, she hooks both of her thumbs into the fabric of their trousers, deftly avoiding getting a hold of their undergarments as well, thankfully, and pulls. A bit awkwardly, but at a good pace, the queen drags that layer off, and Weiren inhales sharply at the sensation of her touch moving over the sides of their legs. Somewhere in the back of their head they take notice of the fact that she basically undressed them almost down to nothing… Now they're just left to the plain, cloth shorts that serve as their innermost layer.

“There we go,” she says with satisfaction, and she trails her fingers down to their inner thigh, where her last bite still remains, now scabbed. “It never fails to please me when I see my marks on you.”

“I like them, too,” Weiren says, looking down at her hand so close to their core, “Thank you for giving them to me.”

“When you say it like that, it only makes me want to give you  _ more _ ,” she says, now moving her hand to stroke down the length of their thigh, “It is still inconceivable how much of a gift you are. I find your desires align so well with mine, impossibly well. There are no words to describe my fortune in finding you.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Weiren returns, “And I’m so grateful that you summoned me again back in Mevaden.” 

It feels so long ago that Vicouryn called them just before dawn to request their blood.

The queen looks back at them, her gaze matching theirs with an intensity that makes them exhale.

“Perhaps the course of events it has allowed has been overall beneficial, but I still regret draining you so much after you had already volunteered some that night,” Vicouryn says, her expression more serious, “That will  _ never  _ occur again. From this point forward, whenever we meet, I will make certain you are well taken care of, in every aspect. You will  _ never  _ be in any danger when you are with me.”

Weiren feels their heart swell at those words. She really does care for them an amount to say that. 

“I have said that you make me feel safe,” they murmur with a small smile, “Thank you, Vicouryn.”

“You are quite welcome,” she returns, drawing closer still. Her hand rises, trailing from their leg up their chest to their face. She brushes the backs of her knuckles against their cheek, at which they let out a sigh of contentment.

There's a brief pause as they look at each other, fondness apparent in both of their expressions. That sentiment from the queen gives them a bit more confidence to ask their next question.

“Will… will you still want to have me if my feelings change?” Weiren asks bravely. The queen cocks her head in slight confusion.

“I will have you as long as  _ you  _ desire to be mine,” she returns, “Whether or not you remain as much is up to you.”

Weiren bites their lip, glancing down.

“I’m just worried that if my emotions become too much that you won’t… you won’t want me anymore,” they say quietly, “Not that I’m expecting anything to  _ change  _ or whatever if- if I like you too much that it goes beyond our arrangement-”

“Why would I ever want to let go of you? Someone who is a perfect fit to be my companion?” Vicouryn says, her hand dipping to their chin to lift their head back up. 

Weiren looks at her through eyes that are on the precipice of welling with tears, because emotions are stupid and that just happens a lot, except now they can’t even cover their face because their stupid hands are tied up.

“So even if I might… develop feelings… I can still stay by your side? You’ll still want me? I don’t… I don’t need any reciprocation because I know that isn’t what we agreed on, but I just want you to know that I might…” They trail off nervously as a tear spills down a cheek, and they glance away. They can’t even use their mild control over water to get rid of them because again, their stupid hands…

A thumb presses against the bottom of their eye, brushing away another tear, and they close their eyes, letting even more fall freely. Stupid.

“I do not know what will become of us in the future,” Vicouryn says gently, “But I  _ want  _ to have you.  _ All  _ of you, even the parts that you seem to be so terrified of. I would not cast you away for developing  _ feelings.  _ Naturally you would feel this way considering the things we have been doing. However you feel, as long as you want to be mine, I will accept you. I have already said how fortunate I am to have found such a well-fitting companion in you; I value you greatly. I… just cannot pursue anything beyond what we have.”

Weiren feels themself sag with relief. Thank the gods.

She does value them, and she does want them, even if they somehow foolishly fall in love, which can go nowhere considering who Vicouryn is. But even just expressing this concern makes them feel lighter. Then they’ll be able to return to her without fear.

“I wish this did not cause such distress for you,” the queen says with a small frown, “I do not like to see you suffering in this way.”

Weiren lets out a little laugh as they blink away their other tears, and the queen presses a cloth to their cheeks.

“I think I’m done now,” they say, in much better spirits “Didn’t mean to interrupt the fun stuff.”

There’s a second as the queen considers them, and she sighs with a small smile.

“I’ll make sure to show you just how much I want to have you,” she says, smile turning to a smirk, “so that you may never question it again.”

_ Oh. _

She shifts closer and starts with another single, soft kiss that feels gentle and kind. Anticipation and joy well in their chest and they lean into it as best they can, which unfortunately isn’t too far, but it is still enough.

When she pulls away, she has a pleased expression on her face.

“Wonderful,” she murmurs, and both of her hands rise to gently touch upon their bound ones as she holds their gaze. She lets them drift down their forearms, and then down the underside of their upper arms in a smooth motion, gently tickling the sensitive flesh. Weiren exhales as she does so, focusing on the sensations, all while Vicouryn keeps a watchful eye on their face, eager to see any change in their expressions. The hands run along the slope of underarm to ribcage, where she drifts across their muscles down to their waist, taking her time to leisurely stroke their skin. Weiren’s torn between relaxing into the touch and their heart speeding up, because even though she’s just barely grazing all these sensitive areas, it’s enough to stimulate a reaction inside them. Their fists clench and loosen as Vicouryn continues, her fingers trailing along the line of their shorts before meeting in the middle and then ascending, so slowly, up their stomach and chest. 

The queen shifts to more properly sit atop their legs, her knees on either side of them, as she brings her hands higher, breezing across their pectorals to wrap on the sides of their neck, holding their hair against them. Vicouryn leans in to kiss them again, but this time it’s even more fleeting, her lips only barely brushing against them before she retreats again. Her fingers ascend, brushing up their hairline to tangle in their locks and card down to their shoulders, prompting Weiren to sigh softly. 

She reaches to run one hand along the edge of their left ear, gently pinching it between thumb and finger, and her other drifts back down to their chest, tracing loose circles on a pectoral, deliberately avoiding the most sensitive spot there for the moment as Weiren’s breaths become just a bit shakier. Masterfully she touches them so softly and so fleetingly but it feels like they might come apart at the seams.

There’s a pause as she gazes at them.

“Hmm,” she says, “Next time I’ll tie you in such a way that it isn’t as difficult to access your neck.”

Weiren leans their head to the side, trying to create space between them and their arm.

“Here,” they say, “is this okay?”

“Yes,” Vicouryn returns, smiling, and she leans to press a kiss against their shoulder. Like the first time she bit them in Gedal, she drags her lips across their skin, breathing coolly against them in a way that makes them shiver, still with her hand playing on their chest, pulling gasps and soft sounds from their throat. Kiss after kiss she leaves on them, spreading across their shoulders and collarbone, cool touches that delight them over and over again. “I wonder how many more sounds I can get from you,” she whispers, and Weiren lets out another soft moan as she licks a short stripe up the side of their neck.

“M-many, I’m sure,” Weiren breathes, “I can’t even… cover my mouth like this.”

“Exactly as it should be.” Vicouryn shifts closer, reaching an arm around their waist to pull them against her, chest against chest as she leans more into their skin, kissing them more deeply. Weiren cranes their neck even more, wanting to help her, and she smiles against them. They can feel her teeth as she begins to nibble, but not puncture, sending more sensations through them. The hand on their back drifts low, dangerously at the bottom of their spine, but never breaching past the hem of their shorts, though it still makes them arch just a bit, heart pounding harder and breaths coming a bit faster as she touches them, their face reddening even more. She’s still teasing them with pinches and strokes on their chest, too, and they can feel their body warm even though they haven’t been kissing her.

Her weight slides back on their legs, creating space, and she trails kisses down from their neck to where her hand has been, to their pectoral. Just as she has been, she teases them, bypassing the bundle of nerves and circling it with her lips. Then, on the lower corner of the muscle, she begins to apply pressure, nipping and kissing and sucking, creating the first new mark of the night. She does this while her fingers keep up their work just beside her head, and Weiren gasps as they can feel the spot become more sensitive, hardening under her touch.

Now they’re breathing even more, shuddering gasps coming every second as Vicouryn takes her time to mark them again, her mouth applying suction expertly. Weiren’s hands clench again as she sucks at their skin, until her lips come free and their muscles sag, but they don’t have time to relax before she instead seals her mouth around the hard nub of flesh that she’s been touching this whole time.

The paladin gasps as sparks of sensation flit through their body, the stimulation having made them just that much more sensitive, and her free hand glides to the other side of their chest to give the other pectoral the same attention. They can feel the gentle pressure of her teeth on them as she continues to work them up, heat rushing up to their face, and now, they realize, also down to their core, in a more aggressive fashion than it has in any of their previous meetings.

The queen moves, trailing her lips across their chest to the other side, taking in the other sensitive bit into her mouth to lave it in a similar fashion, tongue curling around it deliciously, and Weiren can’t help but let out another, louder vocal exhale that makes Vicouryn laugh against them, her breath tickling them. She withdraws her hand from their back and reaches up to their shoulder, bracing herself on them to lick up their chest and back to the other, unattended side of their neck. Her fingers glide up their chin and prod at their partially open lips as they breathe, and they allow the familiar two digits to enter, clean and chilled, to rest on their tongue as she kisses back at their neck. The delicate motions are giving way to more assertive ones, and she nips at the skin, gently scraping her fangs against them as she splits the fingers in their mouth to hug either side of their tongue. Weiren makes another sound around her hand, their eyes becoming half-lidded due to all of the attention Vicouryn’s bestowed upon them. Even if she’s too busy to kiss their mouth she doesn’t abandon it, and the fingers move and explore and touch, focusing on their tongue as it slides wetly between them.

Weiren’s feeling some sort of way, even more than before, a tension building in their body that they're a little scared of, but it feels so good they don’t want to fight it. They’re aware of exactly where heat is pooling, but they don’t know how much Vicouryn will want to deal with it, though the thought is… enticing. She did want to go farther back in one of their previous meetings.

Their eyes fall closed again as they try to control their breathing, but even that is hard because of the touch Vicouryn’s put between their lips. How they wish she would come up here and kiss them long and hard, but she’s the one in control, and she’s the one who will touch them however she pleases. 

Finally she’s rising back to meet them, her fingers withdrawing from their mouth as she takes a good look at their flushed and desire-filled face.

“Tell me, Weiren,” she says, trailing her now-wet fingers down their neck and chin as she sets her other hand on their shoulder, “How much do you want this? How much do you  _ crave  _ my touch?”

“Ah-” Weiren gasps, feeling so incredibly needy that they just completely bypass playfully talking back, “So much, please.”

She takes a hold of their chin, turning their head left and right as if assessing their desire, thumb pressing into their cheek.

“It never ceases to amaze me,” she muses, “ just how much you want to give in to me.” Vicouryn tilts her own head as she looks at them, “So completely vulnerable and at my mercy, and you  _ want  _ to be there. So many things I could do to you while you’re unable to move and you would want each and every one of them.”

“I would,” Weiren says, leaning into her hand, “I like you so much, and I like everything about you, everything you’ve done to me, and I’m  _ yours _ .” The words spill unfiltered, almost as if they’re drowsy from alcohol, but this time it’s just sheer passion and desire in their mind.

“You  _ are  _ mine,” she repeats, leaning closer and wrapping her arms around their waist as she whispers beside their ear, “I am thankful for that. Truly a wonderful gift you have given me, and I will take very,  _ very  _ good care of you.”

“I’d hug back if I could,” Weiren says, relishing in the embrace, and Vicouryn chuckles as she backs away.

“How about instead of that,” the vampire says, bringing both of her hands to cup their face, “I can kiss you until you can’t think of anything else. I can claim this mouth of yours for as long as I want, until you want nothing but more of me.”

Her words send so many sensations throughout them, their temperature rising higher still.

“I’m already there,” Weiren returns, “but I’d love to.”

“Good answer,” Vicouryn says with a sly smile, and she leans in to finally,  _ finally _ , properly kiss them again, and Weiren practically melts all over again. It makes them so weak and it feels so good, it feels so  _ right  _ and they wish they could have this forever.

Her lips are so soft, and they’re less cold from having been pressed against their hot skin for so long. Their heads tilt in opposite directions as their mouths open, allowing the other entry, and it's not too long before they’re inside each other, reaching and touching and wanting and it’s as amazing as it always is. They play with each other’s lips, taking and then giving and using their tongues. The queen frequently draws their lips between hers, nipping gently at them before letting it free.

Not satisfied, Vicouryn scoots even closer, now straddling their hips instead of their thighs as she closes the distance between their bodies, and it’s a dangerous level of intimacy that makes Weiren’s head spin, and she can’t  _ not  _ know what she’s so scarily close to. The restlessness inside them builds further with every second, the vampire atop them kissing them so deeply and running her hands up and down their body as best she can with their wrists tied up above their head. They can’t really move, both held in place by the binding and the weight of the queen, and they would never want to. As hoping, Vicouryn becomes more assertive, her touches coming with more pressure and her kisses with more force, hungrily taking what is so rightfully hers because they have given it to her over and over. She’s all over them and reaching inside them, tickling the roof of their mouth and tasting them, her tongue dragging over everything she can touch as Weiren moves along her side, the two tongues sliding along each other and creating so much sensation for both of them. The paladin’s breathless and the two need to break every so often to recover but never for too long, Vicouryn always ready to return and retake her domain as she watches Weiren take shuddering breath after shuddering breath, knowing how they’re coming undone before her very eyes and she must know it’s entirely her doing.

“You seem so worked up,” Vicouryn comments during one such break, despite also taking deep breaths of her own.

“I-I wonder why,” Weiren says, panting as they look up at her.

“Why, indeed,” the vampire returns as she keeps a thoughtful gaze on them, “Perhaps I should leave this mouth alone for just a bit, and maybe I can give some attention elsewhere.”

Vicouryn reaches behind her and Weiren can feel her hand plant on their thigh, the one she didn’t bite previously.

“This area, after all, has yet to be marked, and I can’t let any part of you go without my touch,” she says, “You did give me  _ all  _ of you, and I should make sure it’s all properly under my name.”

“That… makes sense,” Weiren says breathily, “I’m all yours.”

Vicouryn smiles again, and gives them one last kiss as she backs away. She shifts their legs apart and nudges her knees forward, and with her hands she pulls their thighs up to rest on hers.

“As a reminder,” she says, stroking a hand from the soft flesh of their upper thigh down to their knee, prompting another gasp from Weiren, “I will not go beyond what we have already done, so do not worry.”

It’s a nice sentiment, but that motion she’s just done with her hand and so close to their center just sends another flare of heat through their body and they bite their lip.

With that, she begins the process of taking care of Weiren’s unmarked thigh, running her fingers all up and down, first avoiding the more sensitive, inner side for a time, and then she slowly includes that part, too. Her fingernails graze across their skin, and they tense whenever she gets close to the hem of their shorts, but she sticks to her word and does not broach past, except now Weiren is wondering if maybe she should, if maybe they should take another step further because she’s built up such a burning need inside them and they can’t do anything about it. But  _ she _ can, and they have a nagging thought that she most likely would want to.

She leans down a bit and hefts their leg up again, setting it on her bicep and forcing their legs to spread even more. She shifts closer to better hold it, and she is so,  _ so  _ close to them, her pelvis just some inches away from theirs, and they try not to think about it as she leans her cheek against the thigh, and then presses the tip of her tongue to their skin. Vicouryn licks a wet stripe down, dipping her head to drag the tongue closer to the top of their leg, and Weiren lets out a soft moan. She rises back up, still letting her tongue trail up them until she’s closer to their knee, and she brushes her lips against them next, soft and light. Weiren tenses with her touch, still feeling so incredibly warm. Next she traces across the path her tongue left with her mouth, kissing down and then back up, nipping at their skin gently as she lets her hand run up and down their other thigh as well, putting a terrifying amount of sensation so close to their very core, both of their legs under her ministrations in a way that feels exciting and nerve wracking. 

How much does she know she’s tormenting them further?

Their thoughts are stopped when she seals her mouth around their flesh, right against the border of their shorts, and she begins to mark them.

“Ah!” Weiren gasps at the suction, their hands clenching back into fists as their muscles tense. It’s all so much, maybe too much, and they want so much more, but they don’t know how much, but there’s nothing they can do but hang on as the vampire does what she does, applying pressure and suction until the blood vessels under the skin burst and bruise and leave behind another one of her many marks, yet again claiming them as hers.

“Too much?” Vicouryn asks, raising her head with a dark look in her eye, her expression mostly collected even if it’s clear she’s full of desire as well. They wonder how much more  _ she  _ wants.

Weiren makes a sound, but they’re so overwhelmed by sensation that it doesn’t come out in words.

“Hm?” the vampire says, touching their face with a bit of concern in her eyes.

“I- uh,” Weiren manages, blinking and breathing as they try to regain their sense of self, “I think… um… more…” They trail off, not sure how to phrase their desires under her unyielding gaze.

“More?” She repeats.

“I-I want more,” Weiren whispers, “I don’t know exactly.” How much more do they want? They’re filled with so much need.

The vampire lets her eyes drift down from their face, gazing lower, past their torso to their hips.

“I suppose I  _ have  _ done quite a lot to work you up,” she says after a moment, stroking their leg again, “I assume you want release?”

That’s a way to put it, and Weiren nods, feeling a sense of shame at this level of vulnerability.

“You expressed discomfort at proceeding any further with me,” Vicouryn says carefully, “I can unbind you if you want to take care of it yourself.”

Weiren shakes their head, because they want the entire night they spend to be entirely with her.

“I want to stay here,” they say softly, “with you.” She gazes at them, still assessing.

“Then,  _ I  _ can bring you to release,” she finally offers, “If you would like. It certainly would make this night stand out among the rest.”

“Only if you want to,” Weiren says quickly, “I’d- I’d understand if you didn’t.”

“I would love  _ any  _ opportunity to show you pleasure,” Vicouryn returns firmly, leaning her head closer to theirs, “Do not take my holding back for displeasure, I am only holding back for  _ your  _ comfort, and we will proceed as  _ you  _ desire. I am already open to doing so many more things to you, but I am awaiting your proper consent.”

Weiren’s eyes widen at that thought, and it certainly doesn’t help stop the flow of heat and want down to their center.

“W-what exactly would those things be?” They ask nervously but curiously, even if they can kind of already guess what they may be.

“I’d touch you deeper than ever before,” she says, voice a little husky, “claim you from the inside out, if you were open to such a thing. But let’s leave those thoughts for another time. I am not here to rush you to do anything rash.”

Weiren’s eyes close for a second as they breathe. Those things do sound… very enticing, but it is true that they aren’t sure if they’re ready for something so intense yet. Finally, they let out another shaking sigh, pushing those thoughts aside for now.

“But what about you?” The paladin asks, knowing that normally if one person finds release, the other should too.

“I  _ derive  _ my own pleasure from tormenting you,” she says in low tone, beside their ear, “Do not worry about me. Perhaps that is something we can visit the next time we meet, if you are so curious.”

Oh gods.

“Then… I guess,” they say, swallowing thickly, “I’m… ready.”

Vicouryn withdraws and smiles at them, adjusting her position and coming to their side, letting their leg lower back to the bed.

“I will be very gentle. There is no need to be embarrassed,” she says softly, bracing a hand on their shoulder, “Just look at me.”

She leans back to kiss them, obscuring their view of themself, and they focus on that sensation as her other hand rests on their stomach, unmoving. They’re able to forget about it for a bit as the kiss deepens, but they immediately notice when it quests down, Vicouryn moving without looking, still with her face against them and her leaning just a bit over them. The burning inside them grows still, and only continues to grow as her fingers slide slowly underneath the hem of their shorts. She continues to kiss them, somehow able to exert an impressive amount of control over both actions, her tongue reaching to occupy them as they gasp into her, and her hand following the trail of brown hair down towards their center. Weiren can barely focus on kissing back, their mouth falling open as their breaths come faster, sensations flicking through them like crazy as the vampire glides across them, exploring their anatomy deftly and brushing against so many different sensitive places. There’s a second when she touches the most tender part, and they jolt, back arching and a moan falling from their lips but Vicouryn takes it in stride, swallowing their sounds as she keeps her lips near theirs though she lets them retreat to breathe whenever necessary. 

“Vi-Vicouryn,” Weiren gasps against her as her hand picks up speed, their entire body tensing, “ _ gods. _ ”

“The gods aren’t here,” Vicouryn returns, breaking the kissing as Weiren’s eyes close, “ _ I  _ am, and you will remember this pleasure for a  _ long,  _ long time.” She does not resume the kissing, now intent on just watching their face as she touches them, the only person who has ever really touched them. Weiren manages a few brief looks at her, and her expression is so intense; she looks so determined to draw this climax out of them.

She applies more pressure, running her fingers along them and through their arousal, stroking and touching as their body curls in on itself, something inside building more and more, Weiren completely under the control of Vicouryn’s touch, unraveling as she draws more sounds of pleasure from them, and they cannot do anything as she brings their desire to the peak, overwhelming them with so much sensation they might die. They’re already so close that she doesn’t need to do much.

“Vicouryn!” They say again, barely opening their eyes to look back at the woman who has done so much for them, and she drinks in their expressions, their desire and their want for her. She looks at them with her dark eyes, a pleased look on her face as she works them, and they’re entirely at her mercy. Their eyes are locked together when it finally hits.

Emotions and sensations flow and burst through their body, their eyes squeezing shut and their muscles shaking as something emanates from their core, pleasure rolling through them and Vicouryn doesn’t stop, still stimulating them as the waves crash through their body until they’re limp and boneless in their bindings, gasping and breathing and with a sheen of sweat across their skin.

They’re aware of her hand sliding out from under the fabric, wet from  _ them _ , and Vicouryn presses her forehead against theirs.

“You did so well,” she says, and she brushes the hair away from their face. Weiren doesn’t respond, still recovering from the experience, chest rising and falling with every breath. 

_ Gods... _

The vampire pats them once on the head, and then retreats, cleaning off her other hand with a cloth on the nightstand, and then she’s back, reaching for their arms and sliding up to their bonds. Quickly, she undoes the knot and the scarf loosens, Weiren’s arms falling free down to their sides. There’s a bit of an ache in their muscles, but it isn’t too bad, and it barely compares to the sensations they were feeling just a minute again. Even now there’s a pleasant, warm sense inside them that feels soft and wonderful.

Weiren rubs absently at their wrists as Vicouryn gets up again, and a moment later she’s offering them a glass of water. They have trouble looking at her face after knowing what she’s done to them.

“Thank you,” they say quietly, breathing calming down. The water feels wonderful going down their throat, cool and refreshing, and they end up drinking the entire glass.

“You are welcome,” Vicouryn returns, taking the glass and setting it back down on the table, “How are you feeling?”

“Really… good,” Weiren says, sighing as they calm down. “I… for real,  _ thank you _ . I’ve… I’ve never felt that before.”

Certainly not with another person, and it makes quite a difference.

Vicouryn sits back down beside them, an arm coming around their waist.

“When we meet again, I will ensure you can experience that kind of intimacy even more frequently,” she says, “You are quite a sight when in the throes of pleasure.”

Weiren ducks their head, but leans into her more, and she holds them closer.

“I can’t believe that happened,” they mumble softly, still faintly embarrassed, “you’re… amazing.”

There’s a pause as Vicouryn contemplates this.

“I find  _ you  _ to be the wonderful one, but I will accept this compliment,” she says. “Now, let me hold you more properly.”

The two shift, adjusting to get under the comforter, and Vicouryn reclines so that Weiren can be partially on her, their head against her shoulder as they lie across her side, similar the positions they’d taken back in Mevaden, back when their relationship was just an arrangement of touch and nothing more. She wraps her arms possessively around them, and they let theirs fall across her torso, too. Such a familiar hold and they feel warm and safe and wanted. There’s a sense of drowsiness now, leftover from all of the excitement, and they want nothing more to rest in her arms for a long time.

Who can blame them for falling in love if she does all this for them?

_ Thank you. _

***

Weiren comes out of a trance still in Vicouryn’s arms, comfortable and blissful and well-rested, her body cool against them and their legs gently tangled. There’s a hand running down the length of their hair, softly and gently, grazing their scalp and back so pleasantly.

They sigh in contentment, shifting to press against her even more.

“Morning,” They say softly, hugging her.

“Good morning, Weiren,” Vicouryn’s voice comes from above.

Opening their eyes, they can see it’s still dark, so they still have time to spend with her. 

They still have time…

“So nice when you hold me,” they murmur, “I like you so much.”

The queen keeps stroking their hair.

“I appreciate that,” she says in response.

Weiren rises to press a single, affectionate kiss on Vicouryn’s jaw, and then sinks back into her embrace.

“Feels like this is the happiest I’ve ever been,” they say, “But I wish it could last longer.”

There’s another brief silence.

“This… is the happiest you’ve been?” She echoes, and there’s a hint of concern in her voice. Well, it’s not as if Weiren’s had the happiest life. Surely there were some good times, but right now they’re feeling such a glow that everything else pales in comparison.

Weiren’s read about people being in love. That must be what they’re feeling.

“I think so,” Weiren answers, tracing idle spirals on her collarbone fondly, “I really like to be around you.”

“I… appreciate your companionship as well,” Vicouryn says, her words slower than usual.

Weiren lets their fingers trail up to drape across her shoulder.

“I don’t have a lot of experience, but in the future I… I’d like to learn how to make you feel good, too,” they say, a little shyly, “beyond what I already know.”

“We will see,” Vicouryn returns, “Currently I much prefer to just play with you.”

“No kidding,” Weiren says, laughing lightly.

The hand brushing through their hair glides down their back until it rests just above the hem of their shorts, her fingers poking underneath just the slightest bit.

“Exactly,” she agrees and Weiren blinks, a blush spreading on their face. “I’d love to  _ keep  _ playing until it’s time for you to go, if you want. I could rile you up over and over and make you cry out until your voice is hoarse, and then you could go on your merry way with your Crystal Concord, unable to think about anything but me touching you.”

“Why do you always have to talk like that?” Weiren protests, sitting up to look at her with a flustered expression.

“You don’t like it?” She says, tilting her head innocently, and she tugs at them with the hand on the small of their back, pulling them closer. “I just want to make sure what we do is enough to last however long you are away.”

“You’re teasing me,” they retort, but allow themself to be pulled against her.

“I know,” she chuckles, maneuvering them even more. She turns them around so they practically sit in her lap, her legs folding and passing underneath their bent knees. She reaches her hands around them, one on their chest and the other resting just above the front of their shorts, trapping them in her arms, like the time they’d been trying to study. “So, do you  _ want  _ to go again?”

Well… if she’s offering…

“Alright,” Weiren agrees, “yes.”

There’s another delighted chuckle beside their ears.

“Wonderful.”

There’s a soft touch as Vicouryn brushes their hair to one side, better exposing one of their shoulders, and she presses her face to it, sighing against their skin. Her hand returns to their front, coming up from under one of their arms to rest on their chest as she begins her ministrations yet again, focusing her lips and teeth on the familiar left shoulder, the very spot where she first bit them so long ago. Her other hand, the one waiting down low, comes to their inner thigh, and she pulls it away, gently encouraging Weiren to let their legs spread. 

“Come, now,” she says deviously, “Give me the space I need.”

The flush comes to their face, not that she can see it properly, and they allow their left leg to be readjusted, until she switches hands and can then do the same to their other. Now this is quite a position to be in. Sitting with their back to Vicouryn’s chest, their legs spread wide.

“Let me help you stay there,” she murmurs next, and she draws her legs across theirs, planting her feet on the bed on the inner side of their knees, using her own limbs as leverage to prevent Weiren from closing their legs again.

“Gods,” Weiren says, staring down at themself, their legs locked down by hers, and Vicouryn’s arms around their torso. She chuckles darkly from behind them, her chest vibrating against their back.

“They cannot save you from this,” she whispers, sending shivers down their spine. Not that they’d need to be saved; they want to be here. Even if they are still wearing the shorts, they feel even more exposed in this position.

Her mouth touches their skin again, and she resumes tending to them with her long kisses while her hands begin to roam once more, fingers coming to rub at their pectoral, making their flesh stiffen under her touch. A touch of light fingernail trails left and right, just at the bottom of their stomach, so close to their destination just south. They suppose they’re grateful that the queen seems to have so much fun doing this even if she isn’t currently receiving pleasure in return.

When that hand finally descends, it does not go under the fabric. Rather, Vicouryn lets her touch barely graze them through the cloth, giving them minimal stimulation for now.

Weiren tenses with the touch, their legs automatically wanting to come together, but they cannot, forced open by the vampire holding them.

“I-I know you already took last night,” Weiren says, wanting to make this request before they forget, “But since this is goodbye… do you think you could… one more time?”

The hand on their pelvis settles down more firmly, prompting a short moan from Weiren, and the other on their chest rises to rest along the front of their neck.

“Hm,” Vicouryn says, “You desire another bite.”

There’s a brief moment of contemplation as she begins to palm at them, and Weiren gasps again, already that flare of heat forming inside of them.

“Perhaps I can, but I will not drink, excepting whatever spills. Is that acceptable for you?” Vicouryn proposes, her breath gusting across their ear as she presses again at their core, making their breath hitch.

“Y-yes,” Weiren manages, closing their eyes as embarrassment floods their face, “Um, would you leave one on my wrist? So I can look at it properly.”

“Your wrist,” she repeats, a little surprised, “I can leave them wherever you want, but I do not want to hurt you with too many.”

“I know- ah!” Weiren says, jolting again as the queen continues to stimulate them, “I just- there’s so many and I can’t even look at them myself. I want to be able to see it.”

“Would you not prefer a mark of a different sort?” The queen asks next, and she trails a light fingernail across the fabric.

“Those- haa- those will fade,” The paladin returns, flushed.

“So will the bites, Weiren, eventually,” Vicouryn says softly, briefly pausing in her touches, “You can be mine regardless of the markings, and I’ve already left a scar.”

Her words take a faint tone of regret near the end.

“I know you enjoy it, but I have done so many times already, and I… am  _ worried  _ of taking too much.” Vicouryn squeezes them a little closer to her.

“Oh,” they say back as understanding sets in. They have been giving quite a lot in this last week.

“Let me finish this first,” she says, pressing again against their sensitive spots, and they gasp again, “And we can see about another possible mark.”

Vicouryn becomes more assertive, her gentle caresses giving way to firmer strokes, and she seems to delight in the way Weiren gasps and moans, locked up in her grasp. She takes the opportunity to lick up their neck and kiss their ear, and Weiren’s back arches against her. They’re not sure what to do with their hands, left loose, but the position doesn’t allow for them to touch Vicouryn back in any okay way. A cold set of fingers pinches at their chest, rolling the nub between thumb and forefingers as the hand against their shorts slips under the fabric, finally. Though she is taking her time, Vicouryn’s doing this a bit faster now, and they’re already so worked up again so quickly. 

“I’ll take care of this,” Vicouryn murmurs, and the hand at their chest climbs back up their neck, curling around their chin to their mouth. A familiar dance, and two fingers slide between Weiren’s lips, Vicouryn firmly gripping their face with this touch, increasing their arousal further. Like before she presses into their tongue, touching them from the inside, and their breaths come faster, moans and gasps slipping around her fingers. 

“Ah-  _ ah  _ !” Weiren keens through her touch, tasting her as she slips under the fabric and finds their burning heat down below, her touch so much cooler than theirs and it’s so prominent against them. 

“You’re amazing,” she whispers beside them, moving faster, running her fingers along them, “And you deserve to feel this good.”

Her legs brace against Weiren’s shaking ones, preventing their knees from coming together as their restlessness rises again, up the same peak that they traveled just a few hours ago. They’re trembling, soft noises falling from them nearly nonstop under Vicouryn’s touch. She presses harder and moves faster still, increasing the stimulation as her fingers curl against their tongue. They can feel it coming, their sensitivity rising still higher, every stroke sending waves through them.

They inhale sharply as the sensations hit a crescendo, their mouth gasping wide as their head falls back, their body shaking as Vicouryn sends them through another release, her fingers yet again still moving, keeping them going through the moment until their muscles finally relax, and they’re left breathing hard and limp in her arms. Vicouryn gently unhooks her legs from theirs, sliding her hand back from underneath the fabric and out of their mouth again.

“Vicouryn,” Weiren says between breaths, leaning against her, “ _ Vicouryn. _ ” Her arms are coming around their chest, holding them steady.

“Yes,” she returns, “I’m here.”

_ Gods. _

They sink into her arms. She leans back, letting them rest on her as she grabs the cloth from the nightstand again, wiping off her hands properly before settling back down.

They did it  _ again.  _ How crazy… The Queen of Mevaden came to them and showed them pleasure unlike anything they’ve ever experienced before, not once but  _ twice. _

How lucky are they?

Weiren adjusts themself, turning their body so they can face her as she holds them, her eyes dark and pleased and a satisfied smile on her face as she looks at them. She  _ liked  _ bringing Weiren to those heights.

They don’t know what to say, and they simply reach their arms around to hug her, and she hugs them back, her arms wrapped firmly around their waist. Weiren buries their face into her neck, sighing deeply in contentment.

“This kind of pleasure is the  _ minimum  _ you deserve,” Vicouryn murmurs softly, “Look forward to more when you return to Mevaden.”

If they survive, that is, but they don’t want to sour the moment with pessimism. But, they do feel like knowing that she’ll be waiting for them to return makes them stronger, like perhaps they’ll face their foes with more vigor to ensure that they can return. They nod against her as they pull back from the hug, and with a shared look they instead lean together to kiss. 

Nothing really compares to being able to press their lips against hers. 

When they break away, Vicouryn places a gentle hand on their arm.

“I can leave one more mark, on your wrist, if you so desire,” she offers, “But I will make it shallow, and I will not drink beyond what may trickle.”

“I’d… like that,” Weiren returns, letting their hand slide down from her neck so that Vicouryn can get a better hold on it. She takes it in hers and pulls their wrist to her face, where she briefly runs her lips down the length of their forearm and back, until she’s found the right spot.

“I believe it may hurt a bit more than the others,” she warns, “The wrist is not as sensual as the other locations.”

“Okay,” Weiren says, nodding, and the queen holds their gaze as she very slowly and carefully bares her fangs, and lets them sink partway into the flesh of their wrist. They wince a bit; it does hurt a bit more. But true to her word she does not drink or puncture them too deeply, and she withdraws not a few seconds after. Droplets of blood bead and trickle down, but definitely slower than from previous bites, and she is quick to catch the spill with her tongue, not letting their blood go to waste. There’s a bit of time as she continues to lave at their wrist, tending to it with her mouth, all while Weiren watches, a slight blush on their cheeks.

Finally, she lowers their hand, finished with their request.

“Thank you,” Weiren whispers, looking at the mark. Their other wrist bears a tattoo of a sun, another symbol of Celaste Moren, and now they can look down at the mark of Vicouryn just as easily. They fight to uphold their oath, and they’ll fight to return to her.

***

Dawn isn’t too far away anymore. As relentlessly as it always does, time passes quite quickly, with Weiren and Vicouryn entwined together in her bed for a long time. Usually Weiren would have gotten up and left earlier, but this time, when they leave, it’ll be for a long time, perhaps even more months, so they’ve been waiting just a bit longer, trying to make it last.

Vicouryn replaces the scarf around their neck, seemingly enjoying putting it on them, and she loops it around them with ease. They’re so glad that she’s given it to them; they’ll wear it as often as they can.

“Thanks again for this scarf,” Weiren says, watching her practiced fingers pull it into a loose but elegant knot, “I really like it.”

“Of course,” Vicouryn returns, “I am glad that you like it so.”

“I have a gift for you, too, actually,” they say, and reach into their bag to draw out the box. It’s wooden, but there isn’t much decor otherwise. Vicouryn takes it curiously, not expecting the gift.

“May I?” She asks, a hand resting on the lid.

“Yes, of course,” Weiren answers, nodding nervously. At that, Vicouryn removes the lid and sets it on the table nearby. There’s also cloth inside, but it is only there to protect and cushion the actual gift. 

Weiren bites their lip as Vicouryn’s slim fingers reach in and draw out a delicate, slender, glass flower, though the stem is thicker than one would expect. From the translucent green stem sprouts a white bloom with five petals, though they nearly blend into one another.

“It’s a moonflower,” they say as she observes it, turning it in her hands, “They only bloom at night, and they kind of remind me of you. I uh, I’d rather grow real ones for you, but that’s not something I can do right now. So, um, I’m hoping this can be enough for now, and if— _ when _ —I return, maybe I can plant them for real.” Their words turn into a bit of a ramble at her silence, the vampire still gazing down as she rolls the stem gently between thumb and forefinger.

“Beautiful,” she finally says, raising it up to catch a bit of the pre-dawn light, “like you, too.” 

Weiren’s face warms slightly as she carefully places it back in the box.

“Do you like it?” They ask.

“Indeed,” the queen affirms, a pleased look in her eyes, “I will take good care of it.”

“Like this,” Weiren says, tugging gently at their scarf, “It’s not something to return. Keep it.”

The queen gives them a subtle smile, nodding. “Of course,” she says, “I will.”

There’s a second when she cocks her head, looking down into the box again, and she pulls out a folded piece of paper.

“Oh, no, don’t read it yet,” Weiren hurries to say, blush intensifying, “read it after I’m gone, please.”

“You’ve written me a letter,” Vicouryn states, almost taken aback. She probably isn’t expecting it, either. But it’s full of sappy stuff and Weiren might die if she reads it right now.

“Yea, I hope that’s okay,” Weiren returns, “but um, I’d really rather you read it later.”

At that, the queen smiles again.

“Certainly, Weiren,” she affirms, placing the paper back into the box as well, “I am quite curious to know what’s inside.”

‘You can find out in a few hours,” Weiren returns, sighing in relief.

“I will eagerly await that time,” she says, and steps closer to her knight after setting the gift down to the side. An arm comes around Weiren’s waist, pulling them towards her, and another takes a gentle hold of their hand, cold fingers brushing against the shallow and small pinpricks now on their wrist before sliding to entwine with theirs. They come flush together, bodies against another, and she looks down at them, though they’re only a couple inches shorter.

“I guess this is goodbye,” Weiren says, sighing softly, and they’re hit with the melancholic familiarity of this scene, except it took place in a study before, a dark study in a manor castle of Mevaden.

“For now,” Vicouryn returns, “But we will meet again, just as we have before, and just as we will continue to do so in the future, as long as you want.”

“For now,” they repeat, “That sounds nice. Thank you.”

She leans down, and Weiren lifts their chin, and their lips come together in a soft kiss. Weiren’s eyes close as they tilt their head, relishing in the sensation of her gentle touch, shoulders lowering in relief that they can do this one last time.

_ I love you, I love you, I love you. _

They’re pretty sure that’s what they’re feeling.

The kiss ends, and Weiren gazes up at her fondly.

“I think you already know what I’m feeling but, would you mind if I said it?” they ask, “You don’t need to say anything back. I just… want to express it. Before I go.”

Vicouryn looks at them for a moment, dark eyes unreadable, and she nods once. She won’t be returning the sentiment, because Weiren’s certain she doesn’t quite feel that same way; they are a valuable and personal companion, but they are no romantic lover of hers, and that is okay. They don’t mind because she still wants them beside her, and she accepts them.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Weiren says softly and earnestly, and they keep eye contact, “but it doesn’t have to change anything. Thank you for letting me be beside you.”

Vicouryn’s eyes flit down for just a second, breaking the eye contact, and her head turns to the side, for some reason averting her gaze, but Weiren’s too focused on the thumping in their chest, and they have to look down to calm themself.

“You will always be welcome beside me,” she says after a pause, and her arms squeeze them just a little tighter. She turns back to face them a few seconds later, her stoic mask fully back on.

Even just saying the words makes them feel lighter. She probably already knew but it was a weight they didn’t want to deal with for however long they’ll be gone. She has already accepted so much of them, and now that she’s accepted this part, too, they feel freer. Weiren throws their arm around her neck and embraces her, affection overflowing in their heart.

_ I love you, I love you, I love you. _

***

Vicouryn knows that she isn’t easily moved to emotion unless it is to anger. As a vampire, her heart doesn’t really beat in the same way as those who are actually alive. Even when she does feel emotion, it’s tucked away to be hidden somewhere discreet.

So she is quite concerned when she notices a weird warmth in her chest, and some kind of a restless feeling she doesn’t know how to categorize, when Weiren expresses that they might have developed affection towards her. Vicouryn had her suspicions about their being infatuated or smitten for a while, but it’s not the same as hearing the words out loud. 

Isn’t it good if Weiren likes her that much? Doesn’t it just mean that she’ll be able to rely on the fact that they’ll be there in the future, and will want to indulge in her desires? Doesn’t it just show how much of an effect she has on them, reaffirming her power?

Vicouryn does find Weiren quite valuable to her…

She can’t help but think that it’s a shame they’re falling for her, for they could fall in love with any other person, and have those feelings be properly reciprocated, and perhaps have the romantic relationship of their dreams. Isn’t it a pity that she’ll never be able to give them something like that? As a queen, any relationship with her will be limited, though she can bestow other things upon them.

But they chose her. They  _ want  _ to be around her. They told her all these things, and she is confident their words were and still are truth.

She still has trouble understanding why, but she will not question it any further. They have given themself to her, and she has accepted them, and so she will simply take good care of them, even if she cannot properly reciprocate their sentiment.

_ Love  _ seems like such a silly thing, but somehow it’s driven them to her even more.

Her fingers tap restlessly on the table as she gazes out the window. When will they return? When will she see them again?

She hopes it will be soon.

***

It’s not too often that Weiren gets to ride alongside a king, a princess, a lord, and several, several, royal knights. The whole assortment of coaches and caravans and carriages is quite a sight.

The Crystal Concord has their own cart as well, Weiren seated in the front as usual. They, alongside King Rundahl, will be heading west; the King and his daughter to return to Kohson, and the Concord to venture towards Vangath, where Weiren’s story began several decades ago. 

They don’t know what to expect, but they hope they will triumph and return.

Speaking softly through magic, Weiren urges the horses forward to trot with the rest of the carts, and the whole group makes their way out of the city of Gedal. 

They glance back over their shoulder, looking at the white castle of King Yahsan, where Queen Vicouryn still resides for now. They already can feel her absence, but they tuck their chin down into the warm red scarf around their neck, and carry on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theres just a short epilogue coming after this on sunday night / monday, and then next friday ill start uploading the sequel :) i may switch to weekly updates depending on how fast i can finish the story Lol
> 
> also like. i was in a voice all with the player of Lynne and the DM and we were meming about turning this fic into an audiobook. and then the dm asked for a line vicouryn says and Fucking Ms Lynne Player drags out the Bondage Line "If you are interested, I can tie you down and that would give my hands a bit more freedom to do more to you" And the Goddamn DM said that out loud IN the VICOURYN VOICE!!! HELLO!!!!
> 
> also the sequel will jump to Explicit. take that as u will. thanks and good night.


	21. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes, and Vicouryn waits.

_ Vicouryn, _

_ Thank you again for everything. Words can’t really express how you’ve affected me, but I am infinitely happier after meeting you. _

_ I am eager to return after everything is over, but I must tell you that my story in Vangath is a dangerous one, and it is possible that things may go poorly. Brauven and Vangath are more connected than we know, and so it is that much more dangerous for me to venture to my ‘home.’ I don’t know what will happen, but I will never forget everything you have done for me. I believe I am stronger now, and though I have run from my past before, perhaps I will be able to face it this time. _

_ I have a request that I was a little too nervous to make in person, but I understand if it is not one you can fulfill. When I return, I would like to walk through the gardens with you under the night sky. Maybe by then I’ll have been able to grow the moonflowers that remind me so much of you, and you can see them, too. _

_ Again, if you cannot do this, then I understand. _

_ There are not many lights that I can look to when lost in the dark, but you’ve become one of them. I don’t know if this is too corny for you, in which case you can pretend you didn’t read that. I don’t have a lot of experience writing sentimental letters, and I don’t know what I should or shouldn’t include, but I want to make sure I properly convey how much I appreciate you, and how important our time together is to me. You are very important to me. _

_ Please, stay safe. I hope your journey back to Mevaden is good, and that you and your people triumph over any obstacles that may come in your way. _

_ Hopefully when we meet again I’ll be stronger, and more worthy of being your companion. I know I can be better, and I will do my utmost to ensure that I become as such. _

_ Yours, _

_ Weiren _

Vicouryn smooths her hand over the paper, flattening out the creases from being folded, though it’s already as flat as it can be. 

This is not the first time she has read this letter, and it most likely won’t be the last. For some reason, every so often, she finds herself drawing it out from her desk to take another look. Her eyes flick up to the small vase on her desk, where a glass moonflower sits, light from the moon outside glinting softly on its petals.

It’s the most earnest letter she’s ever read, and everytime she reads it, there’s a feeling that thrums in her chest. Something positive, she thinks, which makes sense since she does value Weiren quite a bit, and it is simply good to see how much they like her. Isn’t it impressive just how much they want to please her? A small smile plays on her lips as she glances at the bottom, where they’ve signed their name.

_ Yours, _

_ Weiren _

Hers. Vicouryn feels a faint warmth come to her cheeks.

There’s so much satisfaction that wells inside her when she reads that, and that satisfaction hasn’t diminished over the many, many months she’s had this. How long has it been? A year? She’s had at least another Blood Vow since then.

Even if she derives pleasure from reading it, there’s a bit of solemnity that comes with it. How dangerous was Vangath for them? Certainly they escaped, for news came that the Order of Integrity was fully united some time ago, and that the knights were sent out on other missions. It’s unfortunate that Mevaden is so far to the east, for most war planning takes place in Gedal, so some news is slow to reach her, and there’s practically no reason for anyone to come this way. The war is to the north and to the west, and that is where everyone goes to fight.

Still, she waits. 

Vicouryn returns the letter to its secret spot in the drawer, underneath the false wooden panel at the bottom, where it has already resided for so long, but she has kept it in good condition, just as she has for the glass flower.

There is nothing more to do but continue to wait.

She wonders what it might be like, though, to walk alongside that warm and noble elf, under the moon and among the flowers. Would they hold hands?

No, of course not. That comes with too many inplications.

But… they could, couldn’t they?

***

“Pardon me, my queen,” Nahlia’s voice comes from the door of the study, and Vicouryn looks up, a bit tired from all the work she’s been doing. Now that the war is over, she’s had to focus on her people, and she’s also had to direct efforts to assist with the reconstruction of western Doluum.

“Yes, Nahlia,” the queen addresses, sitting up properly in her chair.

“A Waywatcher has arrived in Mevaden,” the woman reports, “Waywatcher Weiren, of the Crystal Concord.”

Vicouryn stares at Nahlia, her mouth opening just the slightest bit in surprise.

Have they finally returned?

She’s aware of a bit of adrenaline beginning to pulse through her body, but she shakes her head and schools her face, taking a single deep breath to calm whatever reaction this is.

“My queen?” Nahlia looks at her with concern.

“Yes, I heard,” Vicouryn says calmly, “Where are they?”

“Right now they’re staying at the Waywatcher’s Hall,” Nahlia answers, “But they requested to meet with you.”

“Have some guards fetch them, and bring them here,” she says, “Prepare the single guest room on the third floor and my personal dining room. This Waywatcher is an honored guest, and they will be treated as such. They played quite the hand in ending the war, after all.”

Hopefully the paladin has not yet eaten, even if it is late, so that she may give them something exquisite.

Nahlia nods obediently, not reacting to the fact that Vicouryn specifically requested Weiren be given the guest room closest to Vicouryn’s personal chambers. Which is all as well, because she’s had that room secretly prepared for a  _ long  _ time, waiting for them to come to her. 

“I will receive them in the audience chamber first,” the queen adds, thinking. It is uncommon for guests, even sworn knights of Doluum to enter and bypass a public greeting with the queen if they will be staying in the manor, and she does not want to arouse any suspicion of anything, though there is one trusted servant who knows of Weiren’s status as her companion. Nahlia led them to and from meetings back in the first week she’d met them, of course.

“Of course, my queen. I will escort them there.”

The door shuts quietly as Nahlia leaves, and Vicouryn feels a restlessness rise again inside of her. Her breaths are coming quicker than they should be, and she feels like she needs to move about, a strange energy filling her. She stands, pacing about the study as she chides herself for reacting in such an unseemly manner. 

_ Calm yourself _ .

Vicouryn forces her breaths to slow, but it doesn’t quell the unfamiliar jittering anxiety that for some reason is occurring. She is not used to such a feeling, and it’s worrisome.

She simply just wants to ascertain that Weiren is unharmed and safe, that is all. There is no need to be so on her toes.

Using her reflection in the dark window, Vicouryn draws the stoic mask back on, bringing her shoulders back and adopting her usual queenly demeanor, and yet she still feels sparks of energy flitting about inside her chest.

This is not something she has felt in quite some time, but she does not dare put a name to it.

Vicouryn exits the study and heads towards her chambers. Perhaps she should dress down and wear one of her simpler gowns, just in case. Meet them not as a queen but as their companion.

She changes, once, and then twice, uncertain, before shaking her head at herself in frustration again, and she simply exits with what she’s put on. It will be fine. Why is she so nervous? The Queen of Mevaden does  _ not  _ get nervous.

The queen then heads to the audience chamber, where she first met the paladin so long ago, and takes her seat on her throne to wait. Her fingers tap impatiently on the armrest until she notices, and immediately she stops, sighing at herself as subtly as she can. The room still does have her royal guard, with two stationed at the door, and though she does trust them, she does not want to show any sign of strange emotion. She has a certain image she must uphold.

The minutes pass almost agonizingly and her impatience only grows. Were she not a queen she feels as if she might have stormed the Waywatcher’s Hall and retrieved them herself, but she cannot do such a thing with her status.

Finally, after what feels like too damn long, the doors open, and Vicouryn straightens in her chair and hardens the mask on her face, preparing herself for the inevitable flow of emotion she doesn’t want to feel.

She does not like being at the whim of  _ feelings _ .

First she sees Nahlia, gesturing with her head dipped for someone to walk past her, and then she hears the loud footsteps of metal on stone until it’s muffled by the red carpet.

An elf paladin strides in with steady steps, clad in full plate armor she hasn’t seen before that glints with the glow of torchlight, a sun symbol of Celaste Moren emblazoned across the chest and engravings of vines and leaves curling down their pauldrons and gauntlets. There’s a large shield strapped to their back, and a sheathed flail at their hip, familiar to her but somehow seemingly  _ more  _ powerful now than before, like the bearer of these weapons is standing with more confidence and strength than she remembers. A new tabard hangs down their front, still adorned with embroidered vines climbing up the length of it, though this one appears to have flowers in its pattern as well.

Looking up, there’s a worn, dark red scarf— _ her scarf— _ wrapped around their neck, and moving higher, she can see long, wavy hair in varying shades of brown, most of it pulled back in a loose fashion, but with some locks framing the face of the brown elf. She notices their eyes pointed directly at her, gazing with their chin up in a way that makes Vicouryn’s words falter in her throat, though nothing has ever really done that to her before. There’s an earnest expression on their face, though without any extreme emotion that might imply anything beyond business.

It’s as if they’re a walking beacon of life and warmth, standing out so strongly among the cold gray stone, and no longer are they trying to blend into the wall, but they are so visibly present and prominent that she’s practically shocked. How they have changed so much in the year… 

“Your majesty,” they say, bowing. Hearing their voice, warm and low, is a welcome gift, but there’s  _ something  _ coursing through her that only serves to increase the strange energy in her chest. Her eyes drift down as their scarf hangs when they bow- they have kept it all this time?

She almost cannot believe that they are here before her, but she drags herself away from her stupor as they stand back up.

Vicouryn exhales once, and draws her posture back up, matching their gaze as stoically as she can. When she does, she can see the barely imperceptible softening of their face and the slight lowering of their shoulders in relief.

They’re happy to see her.

It takes a second too long for her to find her words again; why is she so thrown by their appearance? Regardless, she must address them properly.

“Welcome back, Waywatcher Weiren.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow thats the end of this monster. straight up i wrote this whole fic in less than 2 months. i was seized by a terrifying writing monster probably from being lonely n gay during quarantine.  
> anyway if you read the whole thing, congrats, and pls leave a kudos and comment if u enjoyed! im rly interested to hear wat ppl think of it.  
> the sequel will start being uploaded this Friday and will be on a weekly upload schedule until further notice, im only half way done with the sequel and the chapters are on average longer so i have less of them. it will also be. very Explicit for sexy times.


	22. ((EXTRA)) Memories Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **pre-mevaden campaign summary basically! unnecessary for the story!!!  
> A look in Weiren's life prior to coming to Mevaden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally this chapter came before the tales of kandor chapter, but ive been revising this story a bit! this chapter is a summary of the campaign before the party made it to mevaden. it is unnecessary, but i wanted to preserve it so i slapped it on the end for posterity. but u dont need to read it, u can just go on to the next story ;)

_ The following summarizes the main events of Weiren’s past and their journey prior to arriving in Mevaden. This chapter tells of the formation of the Crystal Concord and how the four of them have become somehow intricately tied to Empress Ana Arkova, up until their arrival to Queen Vicouryn’s city. _

_ *** _

_ Weiren’s journey feels like it began ages ago. It started all back in Vangath, the westernmost kingdom on the continent of Fadan. The most religious of the countries, Vangath was known for its fortress cities, impenetrable walls, many temples, and its tendency to stay isolated from the rest of world. They hailed from Battay, the capital of Vangath, the most populated of its cities. There, they went from peasant to paladin, training under the oath to Celaste Moren, a fairly commonly-worshipped deity in Vangath. But there were strange things happening. Leaders of other deities passing away in mysterious circumstances, and a shift in the religious power among different temples. Here, in Vangath, was before Weiren was Weiren. Here, they were known as Eron. _

_ During their time as a paladin, Eron set out to help those around them as much as they could, meeting many new people, including a pair of druids. The two druids taught Eron much about the natural magic of the earth, and they realized that there is far more to the world than they previously thought. Certainly there is the divine magic of the deities above them, and the arcane knowledge of wizards and sorcerers, but there is a deeper magic in the ground that influences the entire planet: the ley lines. Streams of energy deep in the earth are what allow the natural world to flourish above it, and therefore give rise to civilizations. This magic affects life just as much as Celaste Moren, and their perceptions of the world changed from that point forward. _

_ It was one day that Eron passed by the head priest of their temple, the head priest of Celaste Moren: a well-respected individual named Barrett, and overheard something nefarious; something that heavily suggested the priest’s involvement in the random deaths. Not one to jump immediately to conclusions, Eron set out to investigate and learn more, but their questions did not go unnoticed. Somehow, Barrett found out about their actions. A friend warned Eron of their danger. Did Barrett want to silence them? _

_ Whatever the head priest’s intentions were, Eron stood no chance against him. A well-known and heavily involved and respected man such as him could do whatever he pleased without risk of consequence. As quickly as they could, Eron fled Vangath, leaving behind everything they’d ever known. Beyond the walls, for fear of Barrett’s reach, they adopted a new name, and became Weiren. _

_ For some time, Weiren was left to wander with an uncertain future. A lone adventurer, they did what they could to help those they came across, taking up jobs for coin and surviving as best they could, no longer having a home to return to. It was a solitary stretch of time for them, but it was not too unfamiliar. Even growing up in Vangath, there was a long period in which they were alone, too. Isolation was comfortable for them. Beyond just surviving, they had another goal: to figure out why the ley lines were shifting after so long a time. From the druids they met back in the city, they developed the ability to sense the ley lines, and they hoped to learn more about them, though there was not much they could discover without assistance. _

_ Everything changed on a fateful cart ride heading to the Doluum Alliance, east of Vangath. Though they had left behind the cities and walls, there were wide stretches of forest and farmland that Weiren wandered, and they hadn’t really ventured far into Doluum before this.  _

Weiren is not the only traveler on this cart; there’s a tiefling and a half-elf with them, and the three are being driven by a middle-aged human man named Henry. Conversation reveals that the tiefling is a bard named Lynne, and that the half-elf is a warrior of some kind named Dormin, both claiming to hail from the west. 

The cart ride itself is not unnatural, but the four of them camp by an interesting landmark that night: the Wayfare Stones, a strange ring of large rocks, placed curiously above a nexus point in the ley lines. Just before the night, something interesting happens: the ley lines pulse, and an energy spreads out around the stones. The mystical form of a woman appears, spectral and full of energy, sparks of lighting following her feet. No one can really understand what she’s saying, and then it is all over, and she is gone. The three then go to sleep, and have a strange vision of the same magical woman, though in the dream she is in a study, working and researching. No one knows what it means.

The group makes it to Emberdale the next day, where they meet a man named Dawson Kilkreath, the son of the lord of Emberdale, but a modest and friendly man. Having heard of adventurers entering town, he calls them to a meeting and requests their assistance with his mission: to arrange a political marriage with himself and the second daughter of King Rundahl, Beatrice Rundahl. Tired of his father’s resistance to the Doluum Alliance and the stagnation of Emberdale, he wants to use a blood tie to force Emberdale to engage more in the alliance. The party of three agree to escort him to Kohson, and they set off not too long after, but not before having another vision of the strange woman as they sleep. In the dream she is talking to other people, but no one can really see them. Mystified and unable to comprehend the visions, the party carries on. Only those who were present in the Wayfare Stones now seem to be sharing in these dreams.

On the journey, Dawson brings along a woman named Maia, a reserved traveler that is revealed to be Dawson’s stewardess. Along the road to Kohson, the party witnesses some kind of flying creature crash down from the sky, and they discover a young man who had been riding a hippogriff. This man is shown to be Kainen, a scion of Ashana, out to learn more about the world before being shot down by bandits. After defeating the bandits alongside Weiren, Lynne, and Dormin, he joins the party for the time being, as for now, they are all heading in the same direction.

After several days of travel, the party arrives at Kohson, where they meet King Rundhal himself along with his first daughter, Cecilia Rundahl. A fan of adventurers, the king asks them to deliver missives to the other two High Kings of Doluum in Gedal and Mevaden, requesting them to meet up and form a council. The party accepts this mission, though it appears Dawson’s own plan ran into a hitch: Beatrice Rundahl wants to elope with someone far below her status, her stablehand. During this private discussion, Cecilia shows up unannounced, and claims that she wants to accompany the group to Gedal, the next capital, to strengthen her own political ties as heir to the throne and without the permission of her father. She shows herself to be a very confident woman and unafraid to pursue her goals.

Not only does the party take on this quest, but research in the libraries of Kohson gives Weiren a clue to learning more about the ley lines: a group of druids in Kandor, known as the Druids of the Fargrove. Luckily, Kandor lies north of Mevaden, meaning they would still progress towards this place while still taking on the mission to deliver messages to the kings, letting them kill two birds with one stone. 

On the day of departure, the king gives the party wagons and supplies for their journey, unknowing of his daughter hiding in such a wagon, and the group of seven departs. Unfortunately, the stretch of land between Kohson and Gedal is treacherous, for dangerous orc bands roam the forests. On their journey, the party is attacked by orc raiders, though they come out victorious. However, the danger is not over, and more catch sight of them. The party splits up briefly, with Kainen and Lynne staying behind to throw off the tracks with a distraction while Dormin, Weiren, Dawson, Cecilia and Maia make their way further to Shalten.

This is a mistake, for bad circumstances force Kainen and Lynne to fight directly. Kainen calls for help, and the two paladins rush back, but it’s too late. When they finally arrive at the scene, Kainen is lying on the ground, dead, while Lynne is knocked down. Weiren and Dormin fight back and take the orcs down, but it becomes clear that the scion of Ashana has perished. 

Weiren and Dormin heal Lynne and carry Kainen’s body back to the cart, a somber atmosphere hanging over them, but Cecilia, after asking about Kainen’s importance as a scion, reveals that she has a magical artifact that can resurrect him. She uses it, bringing Kainen back to life, putting the party deeply, deeply in debt to her. 

Finally, the party makes it to Shalten, but it is clear that something is wrong. Dangerous traps cover the forest floor around the town, and orc heads are mounted up on pikes. The party learns that a dangerous orc tribe roams this area, and the town of Shalten is heavily at risk of an attack, though there is a local legend, a woman named Uran who keeps the orcs away with various traps and weapons. Talking with Uran reveals a gruff personality, one who hates orcs with every fiber of her being and hunts them not to protect the town, but because she likes to. The party is told that they should leave, because it is likely the orc tribe, the Warfangs, will come and destroy this town, and she will either die fighting it or ending it. The party is conflicted on whether to stay or leave, but eventually they decide they must stay and fight, despite having a princess and a lord at risk.

Later that night, orcs destroy Uran’s hut, and she comes to the town, injured but ready to fight. Tonight, she says, the orcs will come. Cecilia takes charge and commands the townspeople on what to do while the party makes preparations to defend the town. They set up barricades, caltrops, traps and cover, and get ready for the incoming attack. 

Finally, the orcs arrive, and it’s a terrible, bloody battle. Several of the party members go down, but Weiren focuses on supporting, healing, and protecting as best they can. Eventually, the orc warchief, Ohgrul, arrives, and Uran leaps on him for a devastating attack, detonating a bomb of some kind, delivering a horrible blow to the warchief while killing herself in the process. Kainen finishes the warchief off, and Lynne grabs the warhorn from his body, blowing it to signal a retreat. Thankfully, the rest of the orcs flee, leaving the party victorious, but it is no easy victory. Many townsfolk were slaughtered, and many lives were lost. 

Yet again, Weiren, Lynne, and Dormin have another dream of that strange woman, this time talking to a regal man. The two of them have a tense conversation that reveals the woman to be named Ana, though the party does not know who she is. The woman plunges a knife into his chest, killing him in front of his guards, who do not react.

The next morning, the townsfolk of Shalten give the party a document chronicling their deeds to bring to the king of Kohson, and the party sets off again. Along their travel, the party discusses possible names to call their group and settle upon the Crystal Concord, suggested by Weiren. Following the theme, they each choose a gem to represent themselves. Dormin, a paladin of Garmir, the deity of death, afterlife, and wisdom, decides on onyx. Lynne, worshipper of Tir-Jiloth, dragon deity of duality and balance, selects quartz. Kainen, scion of Ashana, with the spirit of ancestral hero king Cassian tied to him, picks celestite. And Weiren, paladin of Celaste Moren and dedicated to learning more about the magic of nature, chooses amber.

The party arrives in Gedal after passing through the Belt of the Unburied, a ring of blackened earth and remnants of war surrounding the city left behind by several years of conflict. Kainen reveals more about Ashana and what exactly the scions are. Ashana was founded by the five hero kings thousands of years ago, and since their passing, their spirits have lived on, tied to certain Ashanan peoples. Those with spiritual connections to the hero kings are the scions, rulers of the country who guide with the wisdom of these ancient leaders. Kainen in particular carries the spirit of Cassian the firm, one commonly recognized as the leader of all five, though Kainen himself is the youngest of the five current scions.

The newly named Crystal Concord meets with King Yahsan of Gedal, delivering the message from King Rundahl and receiving a magical bag of holding as a reward. Not only that, but Lynne finds her brother Ellis, a diplomat here in the city, and King Yahsan mentions that a paladin wearing similar armor to Dormin passed through a few months ago. That night the party has dinner together with Ellis, where they learn of his purpose. As a Vangath diplomat, he’s been trying to convince King Yahsan to put more focus on the temples in the city, as the king does not care much for religion. During this conversation Dormin reveals that he is from the Order of Mortisse, and he is searching for fellow paladins from that order.

Later into the evening, a town crier shares news: Emperor William Tarkos of the Brauven Empire died just a few days ago, though there is uncertainty over who will be his successor. Dormin connects this incident to the last vision, and the party is forced to wonder if they’d witnessed the murder of such an emperor just a few nights before, though they cannot be sure. They don’t have to wonder for too long, though, for their dreams tonight show a vision of a woman standing high up on a stone balcony, speaking to hundreds of thousands of people. It is Ana yet again, and she gives a speech to the people of what must be the Brauven Empire, as she talks of the death of Emperor Tarkos and of fighting back against the other countries of the continent. The party doesn’t know much about Brauven, just that it is a country far to the north that endured much war, similar to the rest of the continent, but they do have an incredible amount of technological innovation, and have pioneered the development of things such as airships.

The news of this vision makes Kainen’s desire to return to Ashana stronger, as the small country is bordered by the Brauven Empire, and it’s quite likely that they may have been attacked. The party decides to head north, where they will pass through Gishal, a neighboring country to the Doluum Alliance on their way to Ashana. Before journeying on foot, the Crystal Concord must take a ferry to cross the river, upon which they encounter a fortune teller. Many fortunes are told, with Weiren’s last, but the fortune teller has one last message. She warns that the fate of the Crystal Concord has been manipulated, and that their opponent has played around too much and found great advantage. 

_ But, remember this, in a time of desperation when you have nowhere else to go, the gate will be found from the heavens to under the earth. _

With this cryptic message in the back of their minds, the party continues north to Gishal, where a festival is currently taking place. There’s time for the party to rest and take in the festival, playing games and having fun, until the chance to see the queen of Gishal, Lady Delas, arrives. A decorated airship flies over the city, from which the queen begins to give a speech. Alongside her is a paladin in dark armor, but too far away to see much more. Unfortunately, something in the airship malfunctions, and it crashes into the castle. The Crystal Concord scrambles to find Dawson, Cecilia, and Maia in the chaos, as those three must have been in the castle during the crash.

Unfortunately, amidst the chaos, another airship, an even larger one with red banners bearing the Brauven symbol appears, and fires upon the city of Gishal. Soldiers begin to pour from the ship and attack, taking control of the city. The Crystal Concord runs to the gates of the city, but they’re blocked, and they instead find brief sanctuary in the sewers along with other civilians desperate to escape the attack. After another fight with several Brauven soldiers, the party and the others exit the sewers and flee the city, unfortunately without having found out what happened to their friends in the castle.

After escaping Gishal and taking brief refuge in a hunting lodge in the woods, the party discusses what they should do next. They aren’t sure if Dawson, Cecilia, and Maia escaped, and Dormin is intent on finding out if that man on the airship is from the same order. The party devises a plan to sneak back into Gishal, with Dormin and Lynne masquerading as guards escorting two prisoners: a scion of Ashana, and his bodyguard, Weiren.

Once in Gishal, the party meets Commander Darsvyke, who seems pleased to know that Kainen is a scion, implying that the new Empress of Brauven is interested in collecting the five scions, and already has one in her possession. Weiren is imprisoned alongside several others in a guardhouse, and Kainen is instead escorted to an airship, where he is locked in a room for the time being, though it seems as if there is a child in the adjacent room. 

In the prison cells, there is one man isolated in a cell in the very corner. Dormin gets an opportunity to meet with him, and secretly recites the code of his order. The man answers back, and is revealed to be Keroth, a paladin of the Order of Mortisse. He explains that their order has fallen due to the influence of one known as the Witch, and he is crestfallen, for he has failed to protect both the order, and Lady Delas, who fell to the hands of Brauven. Dormin doesn’t give up hope, and gives Keroth several inspiring words, and Keroth returns with a request: that Lynne and Dormin get him his equipment and save Princess Vikara, younger half-sister to Lady Delas, who is currently being held by Brauven.

Lynne embarks on a covert investigation to see if she can find the princess on the airship, and uses invisibility to sneak on. Unfortunately, the guards notice and pursue, with Lynne firing off several spells in an attempt to escape to no avail. Kainen, in an escape attempt, break out of the window and sees Lynne and charges to fight, but the guards use her as a hostage to force him to comply. They shackle Kainen and escort him back to his room, and Lynne is taken captive and interrogated for information.

Dormin, still under the guise of being a guard, searches for Lynne, as she’s been gone for a long time, and finds her tied to a chair and flanked by two soldiers. By the skin of his teeth he defeats both soldiers and rescues Lynne, and the two of them use magic and a disguise kit to remain undetected by the other Brauven guards.

Back in the general prison, Weiren passes time by trying to befriend a guard and get as much information as possible out of them, curious as to Brauven’s motives. The Brauven Empire was forced out of their original location to the harsh mountains of the north, and have fought their neighbors for a long time and struggled against the wintry climate. They tried to appeal to the other countries with their trade and technology, but it failed to let them regain their former lands. It seems as if this is Brauven fighting back against this history.

Lynne and Dormin convince a lieutenant to bring Keroth’s weapon to the prison as a means to further interrogate him for information, and they set up a meeting for an hour from now. Prior to the meeting, they set a building elsewhere aflame to serve as a distraction, and when the time comes, Dormin unlocks the cell and feigns questioning him. Then, before the eyes of the guards around him, passes over the weapon: a thunder maul. Now armed, Keroth begins to fight alongside Lynne and Dormin. Now that the battle begins, Weiren teleports out of their cell and joins. Lynne, Dormin and Keroth handle the guards, and Weiren begins to free and heal the other prisoners.

Knowing of Kainen’s location, the four warriors make their way to the airship along with two of the prisoners, while the rest flee in their own ways. They storm the ship and take control, where they find Kainen and Princess Vikara, a young girl who runs into Keroth’s arms. Now with the scion and the princess safe, the party threatens the pilot of the ship to take off, but there are other soldiers rushing the ship. Some of the party fights briefly with the soldiers, including Commander Darsvyke, as the ship takes flight. They nearly finish the commander off, but he instead escapes by leaping off the ship, knowing he can report this vital information to his empress.

Wounded, but victorious, the party flees Gishal on the stolen airship. Lynne magically sends Cecilia a message, and learns that she at least got out of Gishal, but we don’t know where. The ship heads east, towards Mevaden, but there is not enough power for it to make it to the destination.

Later that day, the party catches sight of groups of people moving somewhere down below, but they don’t have time to investigate before something strange happens to the airship. The Crystal Concord runs to the command room, where they find the spectral form of Ana, the woman from their visions. Weiren addresses her curiously, and she regards the party with interest for successfully fleeing Gishal, though she warns them that she will take back what is rightfully hers. With that, she touches the console, shutting the engine down.

The airship goes down, crashing into the ground. The pilot is killed and Keroth heavily wounded, but with healing magic the party saves him. A scout on a hippogriff comes to investigate the crash, and leads the group to a camp, containing refugees from both Ashana and Gishal, confirming Kainen’s fears that his homeland was attacked.

The hippogriff scout is revealed to be Brie, a halfling woman and another scion of Ashana. She alongside yet another scion, Laref, led some of the Ashanan peoples away from the attack, where they met up with the Gishal refugees. Kainen’s mother and Scion Nyla led the other half of the Ashanan refugees elsewhere, though their whereabouts are currently unknown. Unfortunately, the last scion, Sevreyna, was taken captive by Brauven in the attack.

Deeper into the camp, the party finds Cecilia, unharmed and intact, and she leads them to Dawson and Maia, who have changed considerably. The quiet and reserved Maia is practically feral, guarding Dawson’s tent with determination, and inside, the party finds the lord of Emberdale heavily bandaged and bedridden. He explains that his arm was caught in rubble in Gishal when the castle fell, and Cecilia had to remove it in order to save his life. 

Now with a full group of refugees including scions and other various nobles, the party must figure out a plan to evade Brauven, who is currently searching for them. They all move out, heading east, when Weiren senses something strange in the ley lines. With Kainen, they go scout out the disturbance and find a peculiar, short stone building in the forest. Somehow Weiren recognizes it as a marker, and both they and Kainen investigate to see if it perhaps could help the refugees out somehow. 

Inside the building, there’s a stone staircase that descends deep into the ground, leading to a massive, dark room that extends so far they cannot see the other end. A strange, consistent wind circles the room and pulls at Weiren’s torch, and briefly the flame reveals a large set of double doors across the way. Concentrating on the ley lines, Weiren finds that this chamber lines up perfectly with a large ley line pointing south. There’s other doors on the eastern and western walls, but they’ve collapsed and been sealed off.

Weiren insists on investigating the large door; perhaps it is an underground tunnel that the refugees can take to escape Brauven. To fight with the wind, they tie a rope around their waist and venture forward, with Kainen holding onto the other end. As Weiren heads deeper into the chamber, debris and dust are picked up by the wind, and something cuts the rope, sending Weiren sprawling across the ground. A presence descends from the ceiling, and the two adventurers are faced with a suit of armor full of frost and wind wielding a deadly, spiked flail.

Not expecting a fight, Weiren and Kainen are forced to battle with the elemental as they try to escape. A particularly brutal strike from their enemy knocks Weiren unconscious, and Kainen barely manages to drag them out of the room and to safety. With a healing potion, he revives the paladin, and they return to meet the refugees and the rest of the Crystal Concord.

Laref, after scouting, warns that the Brauven forces are closing in on them from multiple sides. Despite the dangerous experience, Weiren reports that the marker’s basement is large enough to hide in, and that it may be their only option.

The group moves to the Eighth Marker, wary of the Brauven airships that are coming closer. Brie takes a hippogriff to keep an eye on them as the party figures out what to do, and she reveals that the soldier who took Sevreyna, is on the ship. Whoever this soldier is, is a force to be reckoned with, with both strength and magic.

Brie and Laref decide to buy the refugees some time and deal with the Brauven airships for now.

Now pressed for time, the party descends back down to the basement of the marker, and fights the elemental guardian yet again. Though still dangerous, the party triumphs, and clears the space so that all of the refugees can come down. Investigation of the room reveals runes on the door, some gold, a scroll, and rolled up carpet. A little more and the party discovers a circular engraving on the floor that crosses through four tiles, each with different words inscribed on them. Underneath each tile is a dial that can be set to a cardinal direction, each represented by a rune. The party matches these dials with the runes on the door, but it does not unlock. There are various attempts to set the dials in different directions based on different perceptions, but the door does not unlock.

_ But, remember this, in a time of desperation when you have nowhere else to go, the gate will be found from the heavens to under the earth. _

Weiren remembers the words of the fortune teller, and deduces that the answer to this mystery will be found high up in the room, where it is too dark to see, and that this carpet they’ve found must be a flying carpet. In order to reach the ceiling, they must figure out how to activate it, but they don’t have the time to wait for an hour. While the rest of the party keeps trying different combinations of runes, Weiren sets about guessing different possible activation words, trying various languages.

Miraculously, after testing out a variety of terms to do with flying, flight, the sky, and even more, Weiren finally guesses the word: up. With the carpet, Weiren and Kainen ascend with a lantern, where they find the correct runes engraved on the ceiling, and then adjust the runes on the ground accordingly. With these new directions inputted, the doors open.

But Brie and Laref are nowhere to be found. Kainen and Weiren go out to look, and find them out in the snow. Brie is unconscious, and Laref is injured, both bleeding out, and with wounds that refuse to close no matter what. It is revealed that whatever wounds are inflicted by the fearsome Brauven knight do not heal.

With the Brauven threat still hanging over them, the party leads the refugees down the dark tunnel for a long time. It’s difficult to tell how much time passes, with no visible sun above them. Hours pass and several long rests are taken, and Weiren learns that being in the Eighth Marker is slowly making them and everyone else forget things. Bits and pieces of information, faces, reasons for why we’re doing things, but there is nothing to be done about it. 

Finally, the party comes across another set of tunnels in the side of the wall, and with it they find strange, aggressive creatures, leading to a fight. After dealing with the threat, the party searches for a possible exit in these new tunnels, and finds a cave that leads to the bottom of a ravine, back to the surface, just before sunrise.

Lynne sends a message to Ellis, who is still in Gedal, requesting that he find a healer for the injured scions, and the group carries on. As they get closer, Lynne and Kainen go ahead, carrying Brie on the flying carpet, and deliver her to a healer who removes the curse afflicting her, saving her life. The rest of the party and refugees arrive as well, where they’re received with support. Supplies are passed out to the refugees, and the Crystal Concord is requested to speak with King Yahsan once again, after they have cleaned up from their journey.

During the audience, the Crystal Concord reports what they’ve learned about Brauven and what happened in Gishal, as well as explaining the existence of the mysterious Markers. King Yahsan makes it clear that he will be going to war with Brauven immediately, starting with reclaiming the ferry and then Gishal. At the end of the audience, he expresses his gratitude and rewards the Concord monetarily, and invites them to a dinner that night. Weiren abstains from the dinner, uncomfortable with the idea of dining in finery in such a high-class place. However, their friends fill them in on what occurred during it: Dawson and Cecilia are considering what to do for the future, and it’s likely they’ll be parting ways with the Concord. King Yahsan warned them of the dangers of Mevaden: a cutthroat political atmosphere, many noble families, a very cautious and intelligent queen. Furthermore, Mevaden has unique problems due to its past. Its history is full of curses, dark magic, and strange rituals. Not to mention that the queen seems to have a target on her back; it's possible that there are several people out to get her.

That night, three of the four Crystal Concord have yet another dream, this time showing them a vision of an airship. Empress Arkova is there as always, though this time she speaks to another figure. A tall knight in full plate armor with dark metal and blue insignias. They wear a helm that completely hides their face, with two curved metal horns coming off the top. This must be the dangerous Brauven knight that took Savreyna, and hurt Brie and Laref. Despite the Concord and the refugees escaping their clutches, Arkova does not seem that perturbed; rather, she takes the news in stride, claiming that this was just the first move. A test, for all her opponents.

The next morning, the party discusses the dream and agrees that it is imperative to head to Mevaden as soon as possible, and they set out. On the road, several different things occur at once: the party catches sight of a flying beast, possibly a dragon, but it disappears into a cave. Just a few seconds later, hail starts, and the party realizes a tornado is beginning to form. The Crystal Concord rides to the forest, hoping to find cover, and they discover an abandoned tavern in the middle of the woods. They take refuge in the building to wait out the storm. 

But this is not the end of the strange occurrences. After the storm calms, a large creature passes nearby and howls, and Kainen, Lynne and Dormin go out to investigate while Weiren stays in the tavern with the horses, hoping to calm them down. Unfortunately, the horses are too spooked from the storm and the howl, and with a powerful hoof kick right to the side of their skull, Weiren is knocked unconscious, leaving a severe bruise.

After a bit, the other three return and the party is forced to spend the night in the tavern. Though the creature returns once, it doesn’t appear to notice any of them, and departs, though Dormin at least was close enough to get a good look.

The next day is the last traveling one, as the Crystal Concord is set to arrive at Mevaden by the afternoon. The city has four prominent towers, each a corner of the four large walls that surround it. Iron poles line the tops of walls in a threatening manner, and several black birds circle above the buildings. Though unwelcoming at a glance, coming closer to Mevaden reveals beautiful stone architecture inside, with a manor castle placed atop a hill inside.

When the party approaches, they are required to submit to a search in order to enter, and they do. Though they carry a missive meant specifically for the queen, they are not allowed to deliver it personally. Rather, they must allow a guard to take it in their stead, as a precaution; the queen does not meet with outsiders unless it is deemed necessary. It will only be after the queen reads the letter that she may request the Crystal Concord for an audience, and even then it is no guarantee.

For now, the Crystal Concord waits in Mevaden.


End file.
